#sorry steve ily

[hauntedfawnn]

⟡ Honey, Lemons, And Apple Pie ⟡

(Alpha!Doctor!Steve Harrington x Omega!Fem!Reader x Rockstar!Alpha!Eddie Munson)

You’ve always known in your heart and soul that you are destined to be an omega, scent matched to your bestfriend, Eddie Munson. No matter how hard you try, you can’t shake that feeling. Even Eddie gave up on you. Even if you are almost 30 and still haven’t presented. But when you meet a sexy, goofy doctor, things change drastically. And fast. It doesn’t help that your past is coming back to haunt you.

Warnings: Angst between Eddie and reader(but he makes up for it I swear and Steve is there being sweet and perfect to soothe the burn), best friends to lovers, alpha!Eddie Munson, Alpha!Steve Harrington, Omega!Fem!Reader, mentions of Reader being in therapy in the past and it’s implied that she has shitty parents, soo much flirty banter, pet names, typical omegaverse behaviors, knotting, scenting, marking, heats, rough unprotected sex, minor Steddie, one mention of blood, spanking, choking, pussy eating, hair pulling, face fucking, Eiffel Tower, cum eating happy ending! WK: 17k💀 18+MDNI!

You’ve made a nice life for yourself. You have a good job at a social media advertising company and you were able to save up enough to buy yourself a small two bedroom house. You have your cat, mochi, and your best friend, Lina. Who's also your personal assistant. You have lunch together every weekday and brunch on Sundays. Your life isn’t boring, per say, it’s comfortable. But no matter what you do to try and make yourself happy and secure you always feel like something is missing. What makes it even worse? Is that you know exactly what that void inside of you is and you have no idea how to fix it. 

Ever since you were old enough to understand what secondary genders were, you knew you were an omega. Everything in your body and soul told you so. But you’re almost thirty years old and you’ve still yet to present. You thought at first maybe you were just a late bloomer, trying anything and everything the doctors suggested to get your omega to come out. Not only did you not want to disappoint your mother who always assumed you’d be an omega because she is. You also knew for a fact in your heart of hearts that your best friend was meant to be your alpha. 

Eddie Munson. He presented when you were both sixteen and you both always assumed you’d follow short after him. You’d never fully crossed the line between friends but you fantasized about and planned your life together, banking on the fact that you’d be each other’s mates. But by the time you were twenty things started to look grim for you. 

Eddie had finally graduated and planned on moving to Chicago with the Corroded Coffin guys. A manager there offered them a shot and there was no way they weren’t going to take it, even if they failed. You weren’t quite ready to leave Hawkins yet, you wanted to stay until your little sister graduated since your parents hardly paid her any attention. It was only two years, you could save up and then go be with Eddie. You’d have to present by then. You just knew it. 

But your sister's graduation came and went and you were still just a beta. Eddie and the guys blew up fast. He was on his first headlining world tour following the release of their second album. But he still video called you once a week and texted you all the time. He still seemed like he had hope that you’d be together one day. That’s why when out of nowhere, on a random Tuesday in mid August, he called you to tell you he had found his scent match you were completely blind sided. 

You didn’t understand how that could be possible when you were Eddie’s scent match. You knew it in your heart and soul. An omega having more than one alpha scent matches is rare, but an alpha having two omega scent matches is essentially unheard of. You felt like your whole world fell apart that day. Suddenly the words of every doctor, every specialist, every peer and even your parents came crashing down on you. Maybe you really weren’t an omega. Maybe it was all in your head. You really questioned your sanity after that. You had a full mental breakdown. It took a lot of therapy, basically brainwashing you into believing what your body was telling you is a lie. Even if you never fully believed it. 

Eventually you were able to get to a point where those feelings of anguish were bearable. You pulled yourself out of that dark abyss and got a job at the local diner so you could save up and still move to the city. Not for Eddie, for yourself. It took years to get yourself to this point where you were comfortable with your life as a beta. A whole decade to be exact. But there is still that little piece inside of you that knows that isn’t true. In your heart you still know that you are an omega. Even if you are almost thirty and still haven’t presented yet. You just need to find out why. 

Although you’ve worked so hard to achieve the life you have now, a big drive for you has always been being able to afford to go and get a full genome mapping done. To see if maybe, just maybe, there really is a reason you haven’t presented yet. And now, you finally can.

You take in a shaky breath as you look up at the sign on top of the large white building in front of you that reads “Omega Specialist and Treatment Center”. Today is the day that will make or break the never ending war waging inside of you. That gnawing feeling that something is just wrong or trapped. If they don’t find anything, you’ll finally accept yourself for what everyone’s always said you are. A beta. But if they do find something? You might be validated for the first time in your life. 

And it’s worth the risk. 

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.

Your nurse is a nice, bright blue haired, beta woman who takes your vitals with a smile. She draws your blood with ease before kindly telling you that “Dr. Harrington” will be in shortly with your test results. You busy yourself by fidgeting and aimlessly scrolling on your phone. You aren’t even really processing what you’re looking at, your thumbs just idly tapping on your screen as your eyes glaze over. You’re so anxious you feel like you’re going to burst out of your skin. 

There’s a soft knock on the door before it pushes open and a whole different type of nerves roll through you. A man who you assume is your doctor walks into the room and he just might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Besides Eddie. You internalize a frustrated sigh at the thought. No matter what you do, you feel like you’ll never fully escape him. But that doesn’t take away from how absolutely gorgeous this man is. 

His perfectly styled, chestnut hair looks silky to the touch and his face is almost unreal. He has soft hazel eyes that instantly make you feel at ease. The pointed slope of his nose causes you have to stop your mind from going somewhere dirty and so do those plush lips, outlined in a thin layer of stubble. Like he hasn’t shaved in a few days. A sharp jaw that looks perfect for kissing and nipping on your way to the side of his neck that looks like it was made for shoving your nose in so you can inhale his scent. 

Which strangely enough, when this alpha walks into the room your senses are flooded with the smell of fresh laundry. There’s a hint of lemon and something sweet, like whipped cream. You’ve never had the ability to scent anyone before though, so he must just have a really nice cologne. 

“Hello, I’m Dr. Steve Harrington and I'm going to be going over your lab results with you today.” He smiles at you kindly before sitting on the round rolling chair across from you. “So, you are almost thirty years old and haven’t presented yet.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to stop as it sinks into your stomach and you prepare yourself for the worst. Again. “Give it to me straight, doc.”

“Well, although you haven’t presented, your genes are almost entirely omega.” Your heart subtly beats again and you feel it start to rise back into your chest ever so slightly. “There’s just one gene that’s off, and it’s very rare but I think it may be the reason you have yet to present.”

“You’re still beating around the bush, Dr. Harrington.” You glare at him but there’s no malice behind it and it makes the corner of Steve’s lips tilt up. You’re his patient so he absolutely shouldn’t think so, but, you’re cute. And something about you feels comforting to him. Like he’s known you all his life. Even though he’s never seen you until less than five minutes ago. 

“Sorry.” He chuckles awkwardly but it’s endearing. “As I was saying, this gene typically only shows up when an omega has met their scent match and their alpha either rejectes them or left their life in some way.” 

“Oh…” Your heart sinks so far back down into your stomach you feel like it’s going to fall out of your ass. That or explode out of your intestines from how fast it’s beating. Your hands shake and tears well up in your eyes before silently spilling down your cheeks as you stare at the doctor, speechless. 

“I’m so sorry if I said something to upset you!” Steve immediately feels panicked, like he’d do anything to get you to stop crying and destroy anyone in the world that’s ever caused you any kind of pain. But all he can manage is awkwardly fumbling for the tissues in his desk and holding them out to you. 

“It’s just- let me make sure I have this right.” You take a wobbly deep breath. “You’re saying that I am an omega. But, I haven’t presented because my scent match rejected me?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying, miss.” Steve’s eyes widen at the way you growl and slam your hand down on the paper covering the little plastic bed you’re sitting on. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” You let out a dry laugh that completely contradicts the ocean of tears that flow from your eyes. You’re feeling so many emotions at once that it’s making your entire nervous system confused. 

'No, I uh - I’m deadly serious.” Steve isn’t exactly sure what to do or say but apparently his body does. He doesn’t realize he released an extra puff of pheromones until he sees the way your nostrils flare before your shoulders relax. Your tears don’t stop though. “Are you okay?”

“No? Yes? I don’t fucking know!” You throw your head back and groan. “It’s just, for the last decade I’ve been called a delusional beta, put in intensive therapy, and been laughed at.” 

You scoff out a dry laugh as you shake your head in disbelief. “And now you’re telling me, that after all this time, I was fucking right? Which I’m stoked about, don’t get me wrong. But you’re also telling me the entire reason I’m broken is because I was abandoned and that’s just- It’s just a lot to process, doc.”

“Abandoned?” A growl rumbles deep in Steve’s chest as he rises to his feet and takes a few steps toward you. He doesn’t even realize his actions until he sees the way your eyes widen and a faint smell of honey and chai tea hits his nose.  “Forgive me, I don’t know what came over me. That was extremely unprofessional.”

“It’s - it’s alright, no worries.” You squeak out. Your insides heat at his actions, adding a whole new level of confusion to your emotions. There’s just something about him that you can’t quite put your finger on, something akin to the first time the warm spring sun hits your face after a long winter. You want to drink it in and drown in it. “Is there… Anything I can do to fix it?”

“Other than being around your scent match? I’m not sure, if I’m being honest.” Steve rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he stands only about a foot away from you. But he can’t seem to get himself to back up. It’s like he’s cemented in place and the only way he can physically move is toward you. “There haven't been many studies on this gene in which an omega presents without the help of their fated alpha. The only exception being if they have more than one scent match and that alpha happens to come into their life, which is extremely rare. Otherwise they can go their entire life without presenting.” 

Your head hangs down between your shoulders as a sob wracks through you, tears dripping down onto your bare thighs where your pencil skirt from work rides up. Steve feels awful, the fact that you’re upset is really getting to him. He has to physically stop himself from taking you into his arms. “I won’t give up on you though. I’ll do some research on this gene and see what I can come up with, maybe there’s some type of loop hole.” 

That makes your head shoot up, tears still streaming down your face, smudging your pretty makeup. But there’s the tiniest bit of hope in your eyes and Steve feels like he will do anything to keep it there. He closes the distance between you and rests a strong hand on your shoulder while leaning down so he can fix you in a warm, hazel gaze. “We will figure this out, omega.” 

You’re taken back the title and it has another wave of tears streaming down your face. 

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry! What did I say now?!” Steve’s hand on your shoulder runs down your arm, caressing you gently. The fact that he’s upset sends off alarm bells in your head and you immediately feel the need to soothe him. 

“It’s nothing bad! I mean, it is, but it isn’t.” Your hand subconsciously rests on top of his as you're flooded with his warm, clean, scent and it makes your head feel a little clearer. You at least have somewhat liner thoughts for the moment. Steve makes you feel grounded for a reason you can’t seem to put your finger on. 

“No one has ever believed me. I have always known deep in my heart and soul that I am an omega and you’re the first person in my entire life to acknowledge me as such. Thank you, Dr. Harrington.” 

“I- Of course, miss, I’m just doing my job.” Steve offers you a lopsided smile even though he’s screaming on the inside. He didn’t even realize he called you by your designation title. You’re making his instinics go haywire and he needs to get away from you before he does something truly stupid. You pull your hand off his and he misses your touch immediately. He pats your arm awkwardly before turning around to grab your paperwork. “Here are your test results, my card is attached if you have any questions. I’ll do some research on my end and be in touch.”

You take the outstretched papers and smile sweetly at the kind, sexy doctor, the one who finally listened to you and confirmed every doubt you’ve ever had about yourself. “Thanks, Doc, really. I can’t put into words how much this means to me.”

“Like I said, just doing my job.” He returns your smile with a thousand wat one that makes you swoon. “Have a good day, Omega.”

“OH! I - um - Thank you, Alpha…” Steve turns and leaves after that and you can’t shake the feeling that he’s taking a piece of you with him. 

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.

You decide you deserve your favorite take out and a comfort movie after the emotional rollercoaster that was that doctor’s appointment so you stop at your favorite Chinese spot on your way home. You ordered your food and you’re waiting at one of the booths but it’s so hot in here you feel like you’re suffocating. It’s a rainy February day but it feels like their AC is broken in the middle of summer. Your work shirt feels like it’s constricting your body and your vision feels hazy. 

It also smells horrible in here. It’s like you can smell every individual dish they’re cooking in the kitchen and the scent of the three alphas and two omegas in the restaurant blend together to make one sickly sweet, musky mess. If you didn’t already pay, you would get up and leave. 

But they finally call your name and you get up on shaky legs and make your way to the counter. Your body feels like it’s being weighed down by bags of sand and your ears feel like they’re underwater. Your muscles suddenly ache like you just worked out for two hours straight and your mind is so cloudy you can hardly think straight. 

You grab your food and right as you turn to leave the door swings open, bringing a scent that is like a saviour among the fragrances flooding the room with it. It’s the scent of a warm apple pie with a cinnamon glaze. One that someone’s cooking on a rainy fall day with the windows open. It reminds you of being at your grandmother’s house on Thanksgiving as a child. One of the few places you’ve ever truly felt at home. Home. It smells like home. 

It’s then you realize who the scent is being carried by. A man you haven’t seen in person in ten years but you’ve watched from afar through social media and his very public music career. Eddie Munson.

He’s even more beautiful than any camera could’ve ever captured. His curly brown locks brush against the leather jacket that’s taunt against his thick arms. His big, chocolate eyes hold so much emotion you aren’t even sure you could begin to unpack it. His cute button nose you used to always poke and give innocent kisses growing up has a million memories flashing through your mind at once. It’s the same as it always was, just a little bigger and he has a nose piercing now. His lips are as plump as ever and you want to bury your face in his thick, tattooed neck and inhale his apple crisp scent. 

Eddie says your name and suddenly you’re so dizzy you feel like the room is on an axis and you aren’t sure why the floor is coming towards you. Your heart is beating so fast you can hear it pulsing in your ears and your eyes start to roll into the back of your head. Then your mind goes blank. 

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.

Your nose is filled with the most relaxing aroma. It’s like sitting on a freshly mowed lawn after spring cleaning. The windows are open so you can smell the fresh load of laundry in the dryer wafting out while you have an ice cold glass of lemonade. But when you open your eyes you realize you’re very much not outside. 

The fluorescent lights above you are nearly blinding and the medical posters on the wall tell you that you’re in a hospital bed. But not only does it not smell even the slightest bit like a hospital, the bed beneath you is warm and breathing. It takes a second for you to feel like you can move but when you’re finally able to tilt your head up you couldn’t be more surprised. 

“Dr. Harrington?” Your eyes blow wide as they meet soft hazel ones and as you look down and take in more of your surroundings you realize you’re laying nearly entirely on top of him in a tiny hospital bed. “Why am I here? What are you doing here? Why am I laying on top of you?”

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Steve’s strong hand runs down your back and that fresh, clean scent thickens in the room, instantly relaxing you. “You presented. You fainted and when they brought you here they found my card on you and assumed I was your doctor so they called me… But when I got here I smelled you and…”

That’s when it clicks in your mind. Steve’s scent. He’s your scent match. You feel that same at home, bone warming, feeling you felt when you scented Eddie earlier and that’s when it all really starts coming back to you. 

The doctor's appointment. Stopping to get food. Running into Eddie. 

“You’re my scent match.” You can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face despite the events that got you here. You presented and this handsome, slightly goofy doctor is your scent match. “That still doesn’t explain why I’m laying on top of you though…” You giggle.

“You were whimpering in your sleep and your scent was filled with distress…” Steve sighs as he brings his hand up to smooth your hair. “Instincts kind of took over and I felt this overwhelming need to be close to you. I’m really sorry if that’s weird or invasive, I just-”

“Steve.” The sound of you calling him by his name for the first time is like music to his ears. “It’s okay, I’m glad you’re here. I’m feeling sort of… strange. Kind of like I want to cry tears of joy and sorrow simultaneously. If that makes sense.”

“It does.” Steve cups your jaw and rubs his thumb along your cheek. You nuzzle into it and he feels like he could melt. “You’re basically going through puberty again at thirty. Not only that, but you've had a lot of big changes today. It’s only natural that you’re feeling emotionally overwhelmed.” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I woke up this morning not knowing if I’d ever present and now not only have I presented but I have two scent matches… It’s a lot to process.” You sigh and subconsciously shove your nose into his chest, inhaling his scent. 

“Speaking of that… Your other alpha is here…” You tense in his arms again and Steve lets out a puff of pheromones to try and calm you. 

“He’s not my alpha.” You growl. “I don’t want him anywhere fucking near me.” 

“It’s okay, honey.” Steve grabs onto your wrist, bringing it up so he can run his nose along it, the smell of chai tea and honey filling his nose. Your scent is much stronger than it was just a few short hours ago. 

“He’s in the lobby losing it because they won’t let him see you. He keeps telling them you’re his omega but there’s no documentation of you being mates and you aren’t marked. They can’t just let any alpha back to see an unmated omega. Honestly once they see me in your bed I’m worried they might kick me out too.” 

“I won’t let them.” You let out another little growl that Steve can’t help but think is adorable. “This might sound crazy but the thought of being away from you right now sounds like actual torture.”

“It doesn’t sound crazy, we might have just met but we were meant for each other. It’s normal for us to feel an instant attachment to each other. Being away from you sounds like torture too. I feel this overwhelming need to protect you.” Steve runs his nose along your wrist again and it sends shivers down your spine.

“You smell so fucking good by the way. Like chai tea and honey.” Steve chuckles gently. “Which is funny because I’m not a coffee person. I drink tea in the morning and at night. It soothes me and so does your presence. It’s fitting.” 

“You smell so good too, doc.” Steve chuckles at the nickname. He might be goofy but as far as he can tell so are you and he already loves that about you. “You smell like fresh laundry, warm spring days, and perfectly sweetened lemonade.”

“Dr. Harrington, that is hardly appropriate! Get off that patient right now!” You and Steve are broken from your little bubble when your nurse comes in with an alarmed look on her face. You’re sure this looks bad, an unmated alpha in the hospital bed of an unconscious, umated omega. 

“No.” You grip tightly onto Steve’s chest and wrap your leg tighter around his waist. Your body heats and you suddenly start to feel the same way you did in the chinese restaurant. You want to tear off all of Steve’s clothes and ride him like your life depends on it right in front of this nurse. “He’s mine.” 

“It’s okay, I’m her scent match.” The nurse furrows her brows as if she’s assessing the situation.

“Why are you written down as her provider then? And why wouldn’t you mention that when you got here?” You know rationally that this nurse is just doing her job to protect you but that part of your brain that is starting to feel clouded wants to tear her eyes out because why is she so concerned about what your alpha is doing, does she want him for herself?

“It’s a long story, but the short version is that we didn’t know until I got here. She has a condition that made it so she didn’t present until now so she’s having heat spikes, which is what’s happening right now. But I swear on my medical license there’s nothing weird going on.”

“It’s the truth, he’s mine.” You muster up enough rationality to know you need to defend your alpha but it’s really hard to think about much other than his knot being buried deep inside you. 

“Alright, well, in that case you can’t be her physician. But all of her tests came back normal so I’ll send in another doctor with her release forms and get you guys out of here as soon as possible.” The nurse scribbles something down on her clipboard before exiting the room. 

“Don’t leave me.” You whine as you squeeze onto Steve and shove your face into his neck. You vaguely processed him saying something about heat spikes but you’re struggling to focus. You just know you can’t be away from him. “Come home with me. Need you.” 

“I can do that, honey.” Steve caresses your back and politely ignores the way you’re subconsciously grinding down on his leg. Even if it does make his cock twitch in his pants. “I need to go by my place and get some stuff and then we can go to your house, how’s that sound?”

“Mhm, yes. I just wanna be near you.”

“Me too, sweet girl.” Steve sighs contentedly. “Do you want to sneak out the employee entrance so Eddie doesn’t see you?”

That snaps you back to reality right quick and you feel a rush of embarrassment over your behavior over the last few minutes. You can’t see Eddie like this. You aren’t even sure if you want to see him ever, despite the fact that your body is screaming to be near him. You won’t cave that easily. Not after everything. He only wants you because you’re an omega now. He abandoned you. He lied to you. 

“Yes, please.” You whine and you want to slap yourself. God you’re a mess. “I’m sorry for-”

“Shhh, stop apologizing. Being an omega is going to take some getting used to, don’t be embarrassed. I’m here for you all the way.” Steve gives you that sweet, warm smile as he perfumes for you and you can’t help but swoon. “Let’s get you out of here and then we will figure the rest out together, yeah, omega?”

“Yeah.” You sigh dreamily. “That sounds good, alpha.”

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.

You’ve been living with Steve for two months now. After the first night he stayed with you, you asked if he would stay for a while. And a week later you asked him to just move in. Your place was bigger and nicer than his so he had no issue giving it up. He brought his clothes, his extensive mug collection, and three full bookcases that now line the living room wall. It always felt like there was something missing there. He also brought his fat orange cat, Puff. 

Being with Steve is as easy as breathing. There was no awkward phase, just a getting to know you phase. You wanted to know everything about each other. From your favorite colors to your mom’s middle names. 

On days you both work, you get home around the same time and immediately get in comfy clothes. You cook together or order take out before curling up on the couch together. You watch each other's favorite movies, chat for hours, sit next to each other while you read. You’re even binging old Jersey Shore episodes together right now. You drink tea together and he cuddles up with you in your bed every night. But he still hasn’t fucked you. 

There’s been lots of kissing and several make out sessions with heavy petting, especially when your heat spikes hit. But it hasn’t gone further than that. And you can’t help but feel like maybe it has something to do with you. Maybe he isn’t attracted to you physically, just your scent. And now he’s stuck with you. You want him so badly though. Especially since your first real heat is coming in the next few weeks or so. You want to be sentient the first time Steve fucks you. 

You got off a little early today so you came home and took an everything shower, fixed your hair, and put on your sluttiest pajamas that could almost be lingerie. It’s a little pink silk tank top and shorts set with lace bordering. 

Steve got home about an hour ago and he’s now in the kitchen, prepping dinner. In nothing but a pair of fucking grey sweatpants. They’re hanging low on his hips and there’s the tiniest bit of bush poking out of the top. It leads up to his happy trail and all the way up to his delicious chest hair. You swear this man is actually trying to drive you insane. You walk up to him and lace your arms around his waist. He smells so good you can’t help but nuzzle into the skin on his mole covered back and inhale his scent. You place a gentle kiss on his back and follow it with another. And then another. 

“Hey beautiful.” You can hear the smile in Steve’s voice and his hand comes up to caress your arm that’s tucked around his waist. You continue your trail of kisses, letting them get gradually wetter and more open mouthed as you go. You’re trying to kiss every single mole on his back and connect them with your lips to form your own brand new constellation. You run your hands up his chest and back down as you press your body tighter against his back. “Mmm, that feels nice.”

“I missed you Stevie.” Steve twirls around in your arms and takes your face in his hands, giving you that smile that makes your insides melt. He leans down to kiss you gently but you lace your hands in his hair to pull his mouth against yours more roughly. You run your tongue along his bottom lip and he immediately grants you access, swirling his tongue with your own. You moan into the kiss and Steve grips onto your hips, pulling your body flush against his. 

“I missed you too, honey, so bad.” Steve’s voice is breathless from your kisses and he leans down to shove his nose into your neck so he can scent you. You feel his cock start to harden against your stomach and you can’t help but grind against him. Steve groans before pulling back so he can look at you. “Let me cook for you.”

“Steve. Do you not want me?” You hate how vulnerable you sound but you’re tired of walking around not knowing. If he’s not attracted to you you’d rather find out now rather than later. 

“What?” Steve gasps and his eyes blow wide. “Why would you even think that? Of course I want you, baby. I want you so bad it hurts.”

“Then why won’t you fuck me?” You can’t help but pout. 

“Honey.” Steve runs his thumbs along your cheeks. “I just don’t want to rush you. I don’t want you to think I’m some meat headed alpha who feels entitled to sex because we are scent matches.”

“That’s really sweet and all, and I’m really glad that you respect me but I really need you to start disrespecting me before I go fucking crazy, Steve. I need you to fuck me before my first heat. I wanna be fully here for it.” You rub your stomach against his now fully hard cock and run your manicured nails down his back to prove your point. 

“I’m also nervous, if I’m being honest. I know once I cross that line with you I’m going to lose control and I don’t want to scare you off…” 

“Scare me off… how?” You raise a brow at him. You don’t know what he could possibly do to scare you off. 

“With my um - sexual preferences.” Steve clears his throat awkwardly as he looks anywhere but you. 

“So let me get this straight, doc.” Steve can’t help but smile at the little nickname you’ve given him. Your comforting scent fills the room causing his shoulders to relax.

 “You’re telling me that I not only scored an alpha who’s hot as hell, a doctor, you’re goofy, smart and you’re a freak in bed? I think I scored the alpha fucking jackpot.” 

“Are you sure?” Steve bites his lip as he looks down at you nervously. “I know I seem like kind of a boring guy but when it comes to sex…”

“Steve.” You giggle. “I want you to fucking tear me to pieces and fuck me like a rag doll.” 

“Yeah?” Steve smiles down at you like you just told him he won the lottery. 

“Yeah, silly.” You press up on your tiptoes so you can run your nose along his scent gland. “Why would the universe destine us to be together and not make us sexually compatible?”

“That’s good.” Steve laces his fingers through your hair and yanks your head back so you’re looking at him. “Because I’m about to fucking ruin you, baby.”

“Do your worst, Dr. Harrington.” You giggle and smile at him mischievously. 

“Oh, now you’re just asking for it.” Steve chuckles as he uses his grip on your hair to spin you around so you’re bent over the counter. Steve leans over you, covering your body with his firm, strong form. He runs his nose along your scent gland possessively before brushing the shell of your ear with his lips. 

“I don’t know how you could ever think I don’t want you. You smell so fucking good and then I come home to you wearing this? God, you’re so fucking sexy.” 

“Mmm, thank you, Stevie.” You hum as you wiggle beneath him, grinding your ass back on his hard cock. Steve inhales your scent again and licks along the column of your throat before leaning back. He runs his hands down your body, letting the silky material of your pajamas caress his skin. He suddenly pulls his hand back and lands a harsh smack on your ass causing you to moan loudly as you jolt forward. 

“I love this perfect ass. You’re so perfect for me.” Steve admires the way your back looks arched over the counter, the way that silk hugs your curves perfectly. 

Steve spanks you again and is nearly hypnotized by the way your ass bounces in retaliation. He gives the other cheek the same treatment before taking the globes of your ass into his big hands and kneads it. He spreads you open and not only can he smell the rush of slick that drips from your pussy, he sees it wet that pink silk right before his eyes. A wave of your lust filled pheromones hit his nose and that’s when instinct truly takes over. Steve’s grip on your satin shorts tightens until they rip at the middle seam. The torn material falls down your legs and you aren’t wearing panties so it leaves you completely bare for him with your slick, glistening cunt on display. 

“Steve! These are my favorite jammies!” You gasp.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’ll buy you new ones.” Steve gets down on his knees behind you and grips onto the backs of your thighs, pulling you open. Slick drips out of your pussy and onto the floor and he can’t help but growl at the fact that it’s going to waste. “But right now I’ve gotta fucking taste you.”

He shoves his face between your legs, running his nose along your wet slit, groaning as he inhales your honey-sweet scent.

Steve flattens his tongue, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit. He sucks it into his mouth before bringing his tongue back down to swirl it around your entrance. He shoves his tongue deep inside of you and flicks it against your walls, practically scooping up your wetness. 

“Oh my god, Steve.” You moan loudly as your back arches further and it shoves Steve’s face deeper into your pussy. 

Steve feels like he’s going to go insane. He’s drunk on your pretty moans and your sweet taste. He could eat your pussy until your legs gave out if his cock didn’t feel like it was going to explode. He needs you to cum on his face first though. His lips wrap around your pulsing clit as he circles two thick fingers around your entrance before pushing them knuckle deep inside you. 

“Fuck, that’s so good, you’re gonna make me cum.” Steve curls his fingers against your sweet spot while he circles his tongue around your clit and it has pleasure wracking through your entire body. If you weren’t bent over the counter you’d probably fall on your ass from how bad your legs shake. Steve pulls his fingers from inside you and sucks them into his mouth before licking up the slick that is dripping from your pussy.

“You taste so fucking sweet, just as good as you smell.” Steve mumbles against your skin as he peppers messy kisses on your thighs. He kisses your ass before sinking his teeth into it, not enough to break the skin, but enough to sting deliciously. Steve stands up behind you and pushes his sweats down his hips before kicking them off. He takes his thick, hard cock into his hand and runs his tip through your slick. 

“Please Alpha.” You wiggle your ass against him and Steve lines up with your entrance before thrusting balls deep inside you and you both moan in unison at the stretch. He doesn’t give you time to adjust before he’s brutally thrusting into you. Steve grabs onto one of your hands and pulls it behind your back and the other comes up to press your head into the side of the cool marble countertop. 

“I’ll never make you beg, baby girl.” Steve uses his grip on your hand and your for leverage as he pounds into you. “Unless you act like a fucking brat, then maybe I’ll make you beg for mercy.” 

“Fuck, I guess I’ll make a note to get on your nerves sometime.” You chuckle but it morphs into a loud moan when Steve’s fingers lace through your hair and yank your head back. 

“God, you really were made for me, huh?” Steve pulls your head to the side so he can shove his nose into your neck and greedily inhale your scent. 

“Mark me.” Steve slows his thrusts to deep pumps of his cock inside you and pulls back so he can look into your eyes. 

“Are you sure?” It takes literally everything in Steve to not just sink his teeth into your throat the minute you ask. 

“Of course I’m sure, you’re my mate. Mark me. Make me yours forever.” Steve leans down and kisses you messily before yanking your head back to the side by your hair and sinking his teeth deep into your neck. It makes your pussy pulse around him as an orgasm crashes through you like a tsunami. Steve pulls back and licks the blood left behind from his teeth marks and then pulls out of you, manhandling your ass onto the counter. He pushes your legs apart and grabs onto his cock, thrusting back into your glistening cunt.  

“Your turn.” Steve bares his neck to you and you feel like he just offered you the world. 

You loop one of your arms around his neck and rest the other against his chest as you lean forward to kiss along his scent gland before sinking your teeth into his skin. You feel your bond snap into place and it’s like a piece of you that was always missing is finally a part of you. You can feel Steve in every fiber of your being and it makes you cum so hard your vision goes white. 

“Oh fuck, I feel you everywhere, alpha.” 

“Mine.” Steve growls and grips onto your thighs as the pace of his hips picks up. It only takes a few pumps of his cock to have him cumming right along with you. His cock twitches inside you, ropes of his cum spilling deep into you. Steve grips onto your face and kisses you deeply. While you’re kissing you feel his knot start to expand inside of you before locking in place. It makes you yelp out but it quickly morphs into pleasure as you cum around his cock a final time.

“Everything feels so right.” You sigh dreamily as you look into your handsome alpha’s eyes.

“Yeah, it really does. You’re fucking perfect.” Steve gives you that boy next door smile that makes you feel like a schoolgirl with a crush. “I’m sorry for knotting you right here on the kitchen counter though.”

“Oh my god, Steve! You’re such a fucking dork.” You giggle and swat his chest playfully. “One second you’re spanking my ass and ripping my shorts off my body and now you’re apologizing for knotting me. I could stay here all night, honestly. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.

You’ve been doing surprisingly well not thinking about Eddie. Having a super hot, super funny alpha like Steve has helped a lot. But the closer you get to your heat, the more often your mind starts to wander to him. And more and more you start to feel like another piece of you is missing. It’s almost like he can sense it too because you don’t know how he found out where you live but he’s started sending you courting gifts. 

A few days ago there was a knock on your door and when you opened it there was no one there, but, sitting on your doormat was a little black box. Your eyes immediately filled with tears when you opened it. There was a silver chain necklace with a little bear charm hanging from it. You didn’t need a card to know who it was from. Your Teddie. 

Then the other day when you got home from work there was takeout from your favorite Chinese place sitting on your doormat. The place you passed out in just a few weeks ago. There was a note attached, that read: “I hope this is still your favorite.” 

It wasn’t signed, but you’d recognize that messy handwriting anywhere. You’ve seen it a thousand times. Passing notes in class, doing homework together, notebooks filled with pages and pages of D&D campaigns. That combined with the fact that he remembered your Chinese order brought tears to your eyes all over again. It’s like he’s trying to make sure you can’t forget about him when you’re trying everything you can to keep him out of sight out of mind. Even if you are still stalking his socials. 

Which you’re doing right now. You’re supposed to be working but you have a few minutes before your meeting with your new client so you took it upon yourself to pull up Eddie’s Instagram. 

He hasn’t made any new posts but you look at the old ones like you haven’t seen them a thousand times before. His many pictures from Corroded Coffin shows, pictures of his hands and his toned, tattooed body. He’s so fucking hot it pisses you off. He posts pictures of his nice cars and his husky dog. God, the cats would hate that. You immediately scold yourself for letting your mind wander to thoughts of what it would be like if Eddie joined your little pack. 

He hasn’t made any new posts but he did post on his story. A flyer for an upcoming festival, a picture of his lower stomach tattoo that has to be one of the banes of your existence because every time you see it you can’t help but imagine running your tongue across it. And lastly, there was a selfie of him with a caption announcing that he would be going live tonight at 8PM. 

“Miss, your 1 o’clock is here.” Your assistant Lina pops her head into your office and you give her a small smile as you let her know you’ll be in the conference room shortly. You aren’t exactly sure who this new client is but your boss said it’s for a big record label. You take a final longing look at Eddie’s instagram before standing up, straightening your pencil skirt and walking out of your office. 

As you pull open the door to the conference room you’re hit with a waft of deliciously sweet apple pie. At first you think your client brought an actual apple pie with him but when your eyes roam the room it only takes you seconds to realize the true source. Eddie fucking Munson is sitting at the head of the large table with a mousy looking beta man that you assume is with the record label. Your body immediately fills with rage at the sight of him. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You laugh dryly. “Is this a fucking joke? You really think you can just walk into my work after ten years like it's just casual?”

“Princess, please just hear me out.” Eddie looks at you pleadingly and you can’t help but roll your eyes. 

“Hear you out? Hear you out?” You scoff as you round the table so you can get in Eddie’s face. His scent distracts you but it doesn’t outweigh the anger you feel towards him. “You fucking lied to me Eddie. And you wanna know what that lie did to me? Not only did it break me into a tiny million pieces and make me question my sanity, your rejection suppressed my omega gene for a quarter of my life!! And now that I’ve presented you suddenly want me?! Fuck that!”

Eddie sits there wide eyed, his jaw nearly on the floor as he processes your words. “I didn’t - I didn’t know. I was just trying to protect you. What if I really did find my scent match and she didn't want a beta around? I thought - I thought I was doing the right thing… But I never stopped missing you.”

“I find that really hard to believe, Edward. You’ve been living out all of your wildest rockstar dreams, I really doubt that you’ve spent all these years thinking about some girl you grew up with.” You feel tears start to burn the rims of your eyes but you force yourself to keep them inside. He doesn’t deserve to see you cry. 

“Sweetheart, you’re not just some girl to me. You never have been” Eddie looks at you pleadingly as he reaches for your hand but you snatch it away and he deflates. “Please, just give me a chance?”

“You want a chance? Bombarding me at my place of work isn’t the right way to go about it, Eddie. This wasn’t cool.” You shake your head frustratedly. “I can’t take this deal, I’m really sorry. I’ll have my assistant give you the card for our sister company and I’m sure they can help you out.” You look at the man who is awkwardly sitting next to Eddie in silence and shoot him a polite smile. “Have a nice day.”

You turn around to leave but Eddie calls your name and as much as you don’t want to give him the time of day you can’t help but look back at him. 

“Please, don’t shut me out. I need you. I miss you. I’ll do anything.” The look in Eddie’s eyes and the way his shoulders sag make the omega in you want to curl up in his lap and shove your nose in his neck, anything to make your alpha feel better. But you fight against it.

“You don’t want me to shut you out, Eddie? Maybe find a better way to go about it than this.” You sigh heavily as you look into his eyes. “Thank you for the necklace, I’ll see you around.” 

You turn and walk out of the room but not before Eddie’s eyes flash to your chest where he sees the little silver bear resting against your soft skin. You’re wearing it. Maybe there’s a chance for him yet. He will do anything and everything to prove to you that he wants you, that he’s always wanted you. 

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.

“Whoa, hey! What’s going on?” Steve’s eyes blow wide as he gets up off the couch to rush toward you. You pushed the front door open so hard that it slammed against the wall before slamming your purse on the kitchen island. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

“He has some fucking nerve showing up at my job like that!!” You growl as you rip your coat from your body and throw it on the ground. “Who the fuck does he think he is?! Bombarding me at work after not seeing me for a fucking decade!!”

Your chest heaves as you kick your heels from your feet across the room. It only takes Steve a second to gather who “he” is. Especially considering how worked up you are. He can’t help but think you’re adorable huffing and puffing around like this. He’s also worried though.

“Baby.” Steve walks over to you and lets off a wave of his pheromones to try and calm you. It works a little, enough to get you to stop growling long enough to look at him. He rests his hands on your shoulders before running them up and down your arms soothingly. “Did Eddie show up at your work? Is that what’s happening right now?”

“Yeah! He fucking got his production company to set up a deal with my office just so he had a reason to see me!” You growl. “He just showed up after all these years, looking sexy as ever, smelling like a goddamn apple pie, with his stupid fucking face calling me that stupid fucking nickname he gave me when we were eight. Looking at me with those wet, pathetic, puppy dog eyes, ugh!!”

Steve can’t help but chuckle a little. He has to give Eddie props for creativity. 

“I’m sorry he did that to you, sweet girl.” Steve hums as he leans down to kiss his mark on your neck and it lights up every nerve in your body. “But it kind of seems like you were a little happy to see him…”

“What?!” You gasp and pull back so you can look in Steve’s eyes. He’s smirking and you kind of want to slap him. “I was not happy to see him, Steve! I can’t stand him. It’s like you’re on his side or something.” You pout. 

“Hey, don’t get it twisted. I am loyal to you first and foremost. At the end of the day I will do whatever makes you happy.” Steve takes your face in his hands. “If you want to give Eddie a chance, I support that. If you want to reject him, I’ll support that too. But I will say that I think you will regret the ladder. You’ll just be hurting yourself all over again if you reject him. I do think you should make him work for it though.” 

“What did I do to deserve you, Steve Harrington?” You look at him with teary, wonder filled eyes. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

“I could say the same thing about you, my love.” Steve smiles at you sweetly before leaning down to nuzzle his nose against yours. “But I do think you should think about what I said.”

“I will.” You nod and press a sweet kiss to his lips. “I might have seen that he’s going live tonight when I was stalking his instagram earlier… Would it be weird if I tuned in?” You bite your lip anxiously. 

“Not at all, I think he’d probably cream his pants if he saw your username pop up.” Steve smirks down at you. “Especially after that display today, it seems like he’s desperate for your attention. Throw the dog a bone. But like I said, make him work for it. You deserve the world, make him prove to you that he’s worth forgiving.” 

Eight o’clock rolls around and you’re cozied up on the couch with Steve and the cats. He bent you over in the shower and ate you like a starved man before fucking you until you screamed. Eddie is supposed to go live any minute now and anxiously scroll through instagram while Steve reads his current book of the week beside you. You finally get the notification that he’s live and your hand shakes when you click on that little circle with his photo in it. 

“Hey guys.” Eddie smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes the way you remember. He looks so fucking good though. He’s wearing a tight black tank top, displaying his toned, tattooed arms. And his fluffy hair is up in a messy bun, like he just took a nap. You can’t see the lower half of him but he has his knee propped up in view of the camera and he’s wearing fucking grey sweatpants. What is it with these men in your life and grey sweatpants? It’s like they’re trying to make you a puddle of slick or something.

“It’s been a while since I went live. But I have a song I wanna share with you guys, I hope you like it.” You watch as Eddie pulls his acoustic guitar in his lap and begins to play. 

He plucks the first few notes of the song with his skillful fingers before his voice joins in. It’s been a long time since you heard it like this. Corroded Coffin is first and foremost a metal band. Eddie’s harsh vocals and rough high notes are otherworldly, he commands every room he’s in and his stage presence is mesmerizing. You’ve heard every single one of their songs. You’ve listened to his entire discography back to back a hundred times and there’s maybe three ballads in total. Ones you secretly hoped were about you. 

But when you were younger, Eddie would always serenade you with his acoustic. He’d sing to you on warm spring days while you had a picnic, or while you dozed off in his bed in his trailer. They were always songs about princesses and dragons. He wrote a few songs about all the reasons he loved you that could be passed off as platonic but were just barely teetering the line of something more. As he begins to sing you realize you recognize this song, it’s one of those songs that was about you. It’s different now though, it’s not borderline romantic, it’s a full blown love song. 

Eddie sings about how beautiful you are, how easy being around you has always been, he sings about your late night milkshake runs to the diner and how his life would’ve never been the same without you. Even if you’re the only person in the world who knows it, he’s singing this just for you. To you. You aren’t sure if he knows you’re watching but the fact that he’s doing it even with the slim chance that you’d never see it means a lot to you. 

You don’t even realize you’re crying until Steve’s thumb comes up to wipe away your tears. He’s watching over your shoulder and he doesn’t feel jealous at all. He feels like something is missing. Like he knows Eddie is supposed to be here with the two of you. He would never push you to do anything but he really thinks you should at least hear him out. Plus you’re not wrong, Eddie is hot as hell.

Eddie plays the last few notes of the song before leaning down to get a better look at the comments flooding in. They’re mostly people wondering who the song is about and girls thirsting after him. You can’t help yourself and you drop a little pink heart emoji. And you can’t stop the butterflies that start to flutter in your belly at the way Eddie’s eyes grow comically large when he sees your comment.

“To all of you guys asking who this song is about, it’s something I wrote a long time ago.” Eddie chuckles gently. “When I played it for her originally, I changed the lyrics around so it seemed a little less romantic because back then we were just two best friends pretending we weren’t in love with each other. This is the way it was originally written though. I’ve taken a few liberties since it’s been so long… But I didn’t change much.” 

He takes a deep breath before looking directly into the camera and saying your name. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. I know I fucked up. Bad. But please, just give me a chance to explain? You’re not just my omega because of whatever cosmic bullshit that made us scent matches, you’re also my best fucking friend. I would choose you even if you weren’t meant for me. Even if you were a beta. Like I should’ve before. I was young and dumb but I love you and I’ll do anything it takes to prove that to you. I’ll go all the way to Mordor and back if that’s what it takes, princess. Just say the word.”

Eddie smiles at the camera gently before ending the live. 

“Wow.” Steve blows out a puff of air as he looks down at you. There’s tears streaming down your pretty face in buckets and he can’t help but pull you into his lap. He runs his hands along your back soothingly. “That was… Are you okay?”

“I - I don’t even know.” You laugh but it turns into a sob. “I miss him so much but I’m scared, Stevie.” You tuck your face into his neck and inhale his fresh scent to help ground you a little. 

“I know, honey.” Steve hums as he smoothes out the back of your hair. “But I think you’ll feel better if you just talk to him. And I can’t lie, I have to give him props for that, it was smooth as hell. I feel like even I was swooning a little.”

“Steve!” You chuckle as you swat his chest playfully. 

“I’m sorry baby, but I have to admit, the man is pretty and talented.” Steve shrugs as you look at him in shock. You’re about to tease him because it kind of seems like he has a crush on Eddie but your phone dings a bunch of times in a row, distracting you. When you pick it up and look at it, you see instagram message notifications from Eddie. 

“Thank you for watching, princess.”

“Please just give me a chance to explain myself?”

“I’ll be at the diner near your work tomorrow at 5PM. Will you meet me? Just to talk.”

“I was such a fucking idiot for letting you go. But I never will again, if you just give me a chance. I miss you so much.”

You read the messages and take a deep breath, throwing your head up toward the ceiling. You gather your thoughts for a moment before typing out your reply. As angry as you still are with Eddie, you know that you can’t live without him. If you reject your bond it’ll be like losing a limb and you’ve already lost him once. 

“Okay.” Is all you type before hitting send. 

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.

“Are you sure about this?” Steve stops you by your shoulders to look into your eyes. It’s a little after five and you’re standing outside the diner Eddie said to meet at. You would’ve been earlier but you wanted to go home and change. You also decided last minute that you wanted Steve to come with you. You said no when he originally offered (without pressure of course because he’s perfect in every way) but after thinking about it, you realized it would be best to be upfront with Eddie about Steve. If he isn’t okay with Steve being part of your life, then he’s already ruined his chance. So it’s also a bit of a test. 

“Yeah, let’s fucking do this shit.” You give Steve a determined nod before pressing a kiss to his lips and marching into the diner with your head held high. Steve watches after you for a second, you’re so fucking cute when you’re all fired up. Plus the way your ass looks in those shorts is almost criminal. 

You look around the dimly lit diner. There’s black and white checkered flooring and retro art on the walls. The tables and chairs are a shiny red that perfectly matches the red and silver counter bar. You look around for Eddie and it isn’t hard to spot him. The diner isn’t very busy, there’s an old man sitting at the bar and a younger couple in a corner booth. And then there’s Eddie. Sitting in one of the large round booths, looking annoyingly irresistible. His hair looks like he just washed and styled it and he’s wearing a white cut off band tank that has his toned, fully tattooed arms on display. There’s a soft look in his pretty brown eyes when they meet yours but when they travel to Steve who has his arm resting on his lower back his lip curls up in a snarl. Shit. 

“Who the hell is that?” Eddie’s voice comes out as a growl as you approach the table and stop a few feet away. 

“This is Steve, he’s my alpha.” Your eyes shoot daggers at Eddie, challenging him to question you. “Is that going to be a problem? Because if it is, then we can just leave.”

“No, don’t go!” Eddie’s look softens again as he urgently shakes his hands in front of him. “I was just surprised, I’m sorry, please don’t go.”

“It’s fine. Me and Steve are a package deal though. There is no me without him.” You cross your arms, pushing your tits together in your little tank top and it makes Eddie’s cock stir. “He’s my scent match too.”

“God, I missed your sassy little self.” Eddie smiles at you and it takes everything in you to not just cave and forgive him on the spot. 

“I really want to punch you in the fucking face, Eddie.” Steve bursts out laughing at that and Eddie can’t help the smirk that spreads across his lips. 

“Well, if that’s what it takes for you to forgive me, I’ll gladly let you punch me in the face as many times as you want.” That makes you snort out a laugh, the tension between the three of you easing a bit. You slide into the booth next to him and Steve follows suit. Eddie’s crisp, warm apple cinnamon scent floods your nose and it makes you clench your thighs to try and hide the scent of the slick that drips into your panties. 

“I missed you.” Eddie rests his forearm on the table so he can turn toward you and you have to physically rip your eyes away from his ringed hand spread out on the table. It doesn’t help that he’s still wearing the skull ring you got him back in highschool.

“I missed you too, Eddie.” You sigh as you look over at him with sad eyes and Eddie wishes he could kick his own ass for it. 

“I’m sorry.” Eddie takes in a shaky deep breath as he closes his eyes, grounding himself before meeting your gaze again. “I was such a fucking idiot, princess. I really thought I was protecting you. I’d never hurt you just to hurt you. I didn’t know you’d just disappear from my life. I didn’t know I’d… I didn’t know this would happen. I didn’t know it could happen. I’m so sorry I did this to you.”

His bottom lip quivers as he looks up at the ceiling to try and keep the tears in his water line from falling. 

“You knew I loved you Eddie, you knew I had always imagined us together. In what universe would you telling me that you’d never want to be with me, that you found someone else, not be painful?” The wide eyed look of hurt on your face makes Eddie blink hard, a few stray tears spilling down his cheeks. 

“If the roles were reversed, if I was an omega and you never presented as an alpha I would’ve stuck by you, Eddie. Yeah, my silly childhood dream was for us to be fated mates but that wasn’t all it was about. It was about you, about us, not just our designations. If you didn’t love me, you could’ve just said so, you didn’t have to go to all this trouble to lie in order to reject me. Or if you really did care that much about if I was an omega or not, if that’s what was make or break for you, maybe I just never really knew you at all.” 

“No.” Eddie brushes the tears on his cheeks away with his ringed thumb. He doesn’t deserve to cry right now. “That is not how it is, at all. I’m just a fucking idiot. I loved you, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my entire life. I got in my head, I convinced myself that shutting down any chance of us being together was the right thing. I thought if I told you I found my omega before I actually did, it would be easier for us both in the long run. I made that decision for both of us and that wasn’t fair, I should’ve talked to you first. But I didn’t, I smashed your heart into a million pieces. I gave up on you. You knew you were an omega, my omega, and I didn’t listen. I’m not any better than your parents and all those doctors. I failed you.” 

“Yeah, you did.” You look over at Eddie with your brow furrowed, you want so badly to go off on him, be mean like you always planned. But now that you’re here? Smothered between His cozy autumn and Steve’s fresh spring scent, you feel at home, you feel complete. Steve’s hand finds your bare thigh, his thumb gently caressing your skin, grounding you with his presence in the way he does. You peer over your shoulder at him, he gives you a reassuring nod and it gives you the courage to go on. 

“You broke me, Eddie. You shattered me into a million pieces. Not only did you break my heart, you broke my mind too. Every single word of doubt and discouragement I’d heard in those years flooded me to the point that I questioned my entire existence. I knew I was an omega, I knew with every fiber of my being. But no one believed me. Not even the one person who was always there for me. So maybe it really was just all in my head, huh?” You shake your head as you chuckle dryly. “Doctors deemed me mentally unwell and delusional. I was forced into rehabilitation therapy and they wouldn’t let me stop until I finally just lied to them and told them I knew I was a beta, that I was ready to let my ‘fantasy’ about being an omega go. Even if I never truly believed it. Do you have any idea how hard that was for me?”

“God fucking damn it.” Eddie groans and pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes. “That’s fucking disgusting, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I wish I had words for how fucking sorry I am. I never should have left you. It was the worst thing I’ve ever done and I completely understand if you want nothing to do with me for the rest of our lives, I’ll respect that. But, god, it would kill me. I’ll do anything, anything to prove to you that I was wrong. I haven’t been happy since I lost you. I achieved my biggest dreams but it felt dull and grey without you. Nothing has ever felt right without you. I’d give it all up in an instant if it meant I could go back in time and spend it with you instead. I’m such a fucking dumb ass.” 

“Yeah, you are.” You giggle as you look over at Eddie with tears in your eyes and he can’t help the goofy smile that spreads across his lips. “I never could stay mad at you, could I?” 

“Nah, you can’t resist my dorky ass.” Eddie chuckles and he takes your hands in his before the look on his face turns serious. “I understand if you stay pissed at me though, you have every right to be.”

“Oh, I’m gonna be pissed for a while.” Eddie’s face falls slightly but you squeeze his hands to keep his eyes on you. “But, I quite like the look of the pathetic beggar on you, Munson, so I think I’ll keep you around.” 

“Yeah? You’d bestow such a high honor on a lowly peasant like me, fair maiden?” Eddie’s eyes twinkle with hope and you couldn’t dream of crushing it. 

“Yeah, dumby. But you better not fuck it up.” You roll your eyes and shove his shoulder playfully.

“Wouldn’t fuckin’ dream of it, princess.” Eddie smiles at you and it heats your entire body, a million good memories flashing through your mind.  

“Kiss, kiss, kiss.” Steve whisper chants on the opposite side of you and Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice, he takes your face in his hands so he can pull your lips against his own. You’ve kissed Eddie before, a playful peck as children, that one time you learned how to make out by practicing on each other. But nothing like this. 

Eddie’s lips feel like heaven as they mold perfectly against yours. Your entire body lights up like wildfire and you don’t think any amount of clenching your thighs could cover up the smell of the slick that drips out of you at his taste. Eddie’s tongue sweeps across your bottom lip and you open your mouth so he can slip it inside, your hands find purchase in his curly mane as you tangle your tongues together. You start going at it like horny teenagers, almost completely forgetting where you are until Steve clears his throat. 

“You guys are really hot together and all, but we are in a public space and the pheromones coming off the two of you could send even a beta into a frenzy.” Steve chuckles at the way Eddie’s face turns bright red and you stick your tongue out at him. He thinks he could get used to this dynamic. 

“Oooh, Stevie, you think Eddie is hot?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him. 

“Honey, look at him.” Steve gestures toward Eddie with an almost lustful look in his eyes and the images of them making out that flood your brain have another wave of slick dripping from you. 

“I think your boyfriend is hitting on me.” Eddie leans down to whisper in your ear loud enough for Steve to still hear. His warm breath fans out against your neck as his scent almost swallows you whole and you want him to sink his teeth into your mating gland right fucking here. “But that's okay because he’s pretty cute.”

“He’s so sexy, right?” You giggle. 

The three of you bound easily, meshing together like the missing pieces of a puzzle. You order food, crack jokes, tell life stories. Eddie tells Steve what you were like growing up and Steve tells the both of you about how he was in highschool. All while you’re practically glued to the seat by the slick that’s now seeping out of your yoga shorts. You know this isn’t the time to be absolutely feral but the longer you sit here between them the more horny you get. They both smell intoxicating and their body heat pressed to either side of you warms you from the inside out to the point that you’re starting to sweat and overheat. But the thought of not being between them at this moment makes you whine deep in your throat.

“Whoa, honey.” Steve stops talking abruptly, his eyes searching your face. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just - I was thinking about how we are going to have to leave soon and I got really anxious all of a sudden.” You tangle your hands together as you look down at your lap. 

“Hey.” Eddie rests his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re looking at him. He smiles gently. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? As long as you want me, I’m yours.”

“That makes me really happy to hear, Eddie.” You smile back but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “It’s just right now the thought of walking away from you after this even just for the night, I don’t know, it just sounds really awful if that makes sense? God, is it hot in here?”

Steve’s hand rests on your forehead, checking your temperature. He observes the thin layer of sweat on your skin, how strong your scent is, the hazy look in your eyes. “Baby, I think you’re going into heat.”

“What? It’s probably just one of my heat spikes, I just need some fresh air-” Your words are cut short by a stabbing pain in your abdomen that makes your body bend in half. “Oh my god, ow! Shit, okay, maybe you’re right.”

“Fuck, should I go?” Eddie looks over your shoulder at Steve in a panic. The thought of leaving you right now disgusts him but he isn’t exactly sure where he fits in this puzzle yet. Steve’s eyes widen as he shakes his head slowly while mouthing the word “no”. 

“No!” Your hands fly to Eddie’s arm in a panic, your nails digging into his bare skin from the strength in which you latch on. “Please, no. Don’t leave me again, Eddie, I need you.”

“Sweetheart, you’ve barely even forgiven me.” Eddie pulls your hands from his arm and takes them in his own, caressing your heated skin gently. His touch calms you a bit and slight embarrassment sets in at your desperation. “Are you sure? I don’t want to do anything you’ll regret when your heat is over.” 

“I’m still upset with you, Eddie. But I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you if you don’t stay with me through this. I need you with me.” You meet his eyes, forcing the haziness from taking over just long enough so he can see how much you mean it. “I am still sound of mind enough to know that I want this, I want you. Please?”

“I don’t ever want to hear you beg me for a single goddamn thing, alright?” Eddie drops your hands so he can cup your cheeks instead. “I am the only one who should ever be begging for anything in this relationship. I will always give you what you need.” 

The way his words mirror the ones Steve said to you before he fucked you the first time heats your body and your heart. A few months ago you were still a lonely beta and now you’re an omega, with two alphas that are devoted to you and your happiness.

“What if I’m a real bad girl and you have to punish me until I beg you to stop or let me finally cum?” The haze in your eyes returns as you look at Eddie lustfully, your bottom lip secured between your teeth. Steve and Eddie both groan in unison as a puff of each of their pheromones fills your nose, making you dizzy.

“Oh, jesus fucking christ.” Eddie’s cock feels like it’s going to burst out of his jeans and he really isn’t sure what’s stopping him from knotting and claiming you right here in this booth. 

“Alright, we better get the fuck out of here before it starts getting pornographic.” Steve chuckles as he starts to slide out of the booth but you latch onto his arm with both of yours, stopping him. “Honey, I’m going to go pay and Eddie is going to take you out to the car, then we will get you home and give you all the knots you want, alright?” You let out a cute little growl as you clutch onto him tighter. 

“Princess, it’s okay.” Eddie grabs your hands and gently pulls them off Steve. “Steve will be just a second, right Steve? And then we will all go in the same car together. We can leave Steve’s car here.”

“What? Why my car? I know the way there, I should be the one driving.” Steve raises a brow at Eddie.

“No offense dude, but, I saw your mom wagon and I'd waaay rather leave that here than my Lambo. You can drive, though.” Eddie pulls his keys from his pocket, points the fob toward his car to unlock it, and throws Steve the keys before picking you up bridal style and carrying you out of the diner. 

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑. 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.

It takes everything in Eddie to not sink his cock into your dripping heat in the passenger of his two seater. The drive to your house is only about ten minutes but you’re sitting on his lap and the material of his jeans is soaked through from you grinding your needy, slick dripping pussy against him. It doesn’t help that you’re pawing at his clothes while you look at him with big desperate eyes and your scent was so thick in the small space he felt high off of it. “Princess, the first time I fuck you is not going to be in my car, okay?”

“We’re almost there honey, only like one more minute.” Steve peaks over at you and he feels like his cock is going to explode out of his jeans. 

When Steve pulls into the driveway he’s barely parked before he’s out of the car and speed walking around the front. He pulls the passenger door open and practically rips you from Eddie’s lap and speed walks toward the front door with Eddie close on his heels. Once you’re inside he heads directly for your room while you writhe around in his arms. 

Steve throws you down on the bed amongst the various pillows and articles of clothing you’ve been arranging there for the last week. Your skin is flushed and covered with a sheen of sweat and your little pink yoga shorts are completely soaked at the crutch, making them a shade darker. You’re breathing heavily, making your tits bounce in your little top and the look in your eyes is feral. Eddie comes to stand at the end of the bed with Steve and your knees subconsciously fall to your sides, causing a strong wave of your arousal to waft through the room. 

“Please?” You whine as you look up at them with glassy eyes, they’re both so fucking hot. Steve in his tight white t-shirt that you can just barely see his chest hair through and his thick cock straining against his jeans that always seem to mold perfectly with his body. His chestnut hair is tousled and his hazel eyes are almost black as he stares down at you hungrily. That goddamn cut off shirt Eddie is wearing shows off his tattoo covered arms and it hits just above his belt, giving you a delicious view of his happy trail and slutty lower stomach tattoo. His ripped black jeans fit looser on the bottom but they’re tight in all the right places. Like his ass and his big fucking cock that you’re dying to see, his zipper looks like it’s going to burst and you kind of hope it does. Also they both smell so fucking good it’s making you more dizzy than you already.

A stabbing pain shoots through your abdomen causing you to cry out. “Please fuck me? Bite me, knot me, fill me with cum until I’m so full it just keeps spilling out and then fill me some more.” 

Steve’s nostrils flare and he breathes out through his nose almost like a bull. He rips his shirt over his head so fast you hear a tearing sound and tosses it on the bed among the various clothing items already there. His large hand wraps around your ankle and he pulls you to the edge of the bed until your calves are hanging off. He grips onto the top of your shorts, ripping them in two with such ease you’d think they were a piece of paper. When he sees you’re not wearing panties, your glistening, puffy cunt on full display for him with your honey-sweet scent flooding his senses, he loses it. 

“Mine.” Steve growls and drops to his knees in front of the bed, throwing your legs over his shoulders and shoves his face between your legs. He runs the tip of his nose through your folds, inhaling deeply. He flattens his tongue and licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, he circles your bud a few times before bringing his tongue back to your hole so he can taste your sweet nectar. Sweet fucks you with his tongue, sucking your clit and shoving his tongue as deep as it will go inside of you until you’re coming apart for him. Your back arches off the bed so far he has to pin you down and your slick drips down his chin and neck as you cry out his name. 

“Fuck, that’s a beautiful sight.” Somewhere amongst your orgasm haze you hear Eddie’s voice and it has another orgasm hurtling through you. Steve fucks you through it before standing up and riding himself of the rest of his clothes. Eddie comes to sit beside you on the edge of the bed and your pussy clenches around nothing at the sight of him. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

“Need you.” You reach for him as another shooting pain stabs through you but he grabs onto your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

“I know, sweetheart.” Eddie pushes some of your hair out of your face and runs a ringed finger along your temple down your jaw. “But it’s only fair that I let Stevie here have you first.”

“I think I just might like you, Munson.” Steve smirks at Eddie as he grabs onto one of your thighs and throws it around his hip. He cups your pussy, grinding his palm against your pulsing clit so he can collect some of your slick. Steve takes his shaft in his wet hand and pumps it a few times before lining up and burying his cock inside you in one rough thrust. Your pussy greedily sucks him in, the feeling of his cock easing the stabbing pain coursing through you. He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back into you and starting up at a rough pace. 

“Oh, fuck yes.” You moan loudly as Steve practically uses your pussy as a cock sleeve, you hear a zipper next to your head and when you look over you see Eddie pulling his cock from his jeans as he watches the way Steve slides in and out of you, the sounds of your slick filling the room. His ringed hand slides between your legs rubbing against your clit. His palm rests against your mound as he spreads his fingers down the middle and runs them down either side of Steve’s cock that’s nestled inside you. He slides his fingers up and down a few times, gathering your slick as his rings rub against the soft skin of Steve’s cock. You watch Steve’s face for his reaction and when you see the way he’s looking at Eddie with fire in his eyes it makes your walls clench around him. 

“I think I might like you too, Steve.” You tilt your head to look at Eddie and he has that shit eating grin that you know all too well plastered on his face. He pulls his hand from between your legs and uses it to lube up his cock before gripping onto it so he can stroke himself. 

“God, that was so hot.” Your words are slurred and you have this hazy look in your eyes but that doesn’t spot you from returning Eddie’s smirk with one of your own. “I wanna see you guys kiss.”

“Yeah? Maybe one day, honey.” Steve grabs onto your thighs and throws them over his shoulders as he pumps his cock into you, the new angle has the head of him pressing right against your sweet spot and it makes your pussy clench like vice grip around his cock while you come undone for him. “That’s a good girl, cum all over your alpha’s cock.”

“You’re taking him so well, baby girl.” Eddie cups your cheek gently as he looks down at you in awe. He’s stroking his cock leisurely while he watches you, scared he might bust his nut at the sight of you like this if he gets too carried away. “I can’t fucking wait to be inside you, how does she feel, Steve?”

“So fucking good, so fucking tight and wet. Her pussy is fucking perfect.” Steve moans as he leans over you, his hands coming down on either side of your head with your legs still thrown over his shoulders, practically folding you in half like a pretzel. 

“Yes! Oh my god alpha, that’s so good.” Your hands grip onto Steve's forearms, your nails digging into his flesh deliciously. “I’m so close, choke me, Eddie.”

“Jesus Christ, are you for real?” Eddie groans and his cock twitches in his hand. 

“She’s deadly fucking serious, our omega is a little masochist.” Steve chimes in for you.

“God, I’m so fucking obsessed with you.” Eddie licks his lips as he brings his free hand to your throat. He wraps his thick ringed fingers around your flesh before squeezing just tight enough to obstruct your air flow. You pussy spasms around Steve’s cock as another ogasm has euphoria over taking your entire being. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum.” Steve moans as he pushes himself up to stand again, he grabs onto the back of your thighs and pushes them to your chest as he fucks you like a wild animal. It doesn’t take long for his cock to pulse inside you as ropes of his cum fill your walls.

“Knot, alpha, give me your knot. Need it.” Your mind is so foggy it feels like silent hill has taken up residence there and all you can think about now is how badly you need Steve’s knot inside you. You don’t have to want long because as soon as he stops cumming you feel the head of his cock inflate inside you. There’s a stabbing pain that’s quickly replaced with otherworldly pleasure, your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body probably would’ve flown off the bed if Eddie’s hands didn’t come down to pin your hips. It feels like it takes you forever to come down from your high. But when you finally do, Steve grabs onto you so he can pick you up just long enough to lay down on the bed on his back with you straddling him. 

“Mmm, you feeling any better, honey?” Steve’s knot is still nestled inside of you and he runs his hands down your hair to your back where he traces little circles on your skin with his fingertips. You feel the mattress shift and when you peel your tired eyes open you see a now shirtless Eddie propped up on his elbow the bed beside you.

“Yes, a little.” You nod, your cheek rubbing against Steve’s sweaty chest hair. “But, I need Eddie’s knot too.” Your bottom lip juts out as you look over at him with puppy dog eyes.

“And I’m going to give it to you, sweet thing.” Eddie hums. “As soon as Steve’s goes down, I’m all yours.”

After about ten minutes you feel Steve’s cock start to soften inside you, his knot unlocking from your walls. You’re so wet he slips out of you once he’s fully soft and Eddie wastes absolutely no time ripping your body from Steve’s and throwing you onto your back. He hovers over you on his knees and the sight of him all tattooed and now fully naked makes you whimper. He runs two of his fingers through your slit, gathering your slick and Steve’s cum onto them. He brings them to your lips, smearing the wetness across them like lipgloss. 

“Taste it.” You oblige him, taking his thick fingers into your mouth until his rings hit your lips. You swirl your tongue around, your eyes rolling back with a moan at the taste of you and Steve together. Eddie pulls his fingers from your mouth and leans down to lick your lips before kissing you hard. He runs his tongue along your bottom lip and you open your mouth so he can slide it against yours. He tangles your tongues together before sucking yours into his mouth and pulling off, a string of spit still connecting you. 

“Damn, you guys taste delicious together.” Eddie smirks over at Steve with his wet mouth and it has his cock hardening again already. 

“Are you flirting with me, Munson?” Steve raises a thick brow at him, returning his smirk with one of his own. 

“I thought it would be obvious by now.” Eddie chuckles.

“You guys are super cute and all but I feel like I’m getting stabbed and if you don’t fuck me soon I’m gonna lose my shit.” You look between them, a devious little smirk of your own finding your lips. “Unless you guys are gonna kiss, then I can wait for that.” 

“Well, what the princess wants…” Eddie leans over you to grab the back of Steve’s neck so he pull his mouth against his in a hard kiss. Steve’s hands find purchase in Eddie’s hair and their lips move together roughly. Their mouths open and you see their tongues dancing with each other messily. It’s messy and rough and it looks like they’re fighting for dominance.

“That’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” Your voice has your alphas breaking their kiss and their attention directed back to you. “Maybe I can watch you guys fuck someday.” 

“I’m sure you’d love that.” Eddie chuckles before wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing. He leans down so his face less than an inch from yours, his hot breath hitting your face. “But right now, you’re fucking mine. I have waited so long for this and I’m about to fuck you until you can’t walk for days.”

“Do it. Fucking ruin me, Eddie.” It’s like you said the magic words because Eddie grips onto your hips so he can flip you onto your stomach. You push yourself up onto your hands and arch your back so your ass is in the air for him. His hand comes down on your asscheek hard, his rings biting your skin. He gives the other cheek the same treatment before thrusting two thick fingers inside of you.

“You’re so fucking wet.” Eddie groans as he pumps his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace. You clench around his fingers, your orgasm just in reach, but he pulls his fingers out of you, taking your orgasm with him.

“Hey! I was about to cum!” You whine.

“I know, baby, but I need you to cum on my cock.” You feel the tip of Eddie’s cock slide through your folds before his slams into you in one thrust and starts to fuck you with no remorse. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight, oh my god.”

“You feel so fucking good, alpha.” You bounce back against him, meeting his thrusts the best you can. Eddie’s hand smacks your ass again before he roughly grips onto your hips as you fucks you like his life depends on it. 

“Damn, you’re right, that is a beautiful sight.” The sound of Steve’s voice has your head whipping toward him and you moan at the sight of him. His hair is a complete mess, his skin is shiny with sweat, including his glistening chest hair, and he’s jerking himself off. “You look so fucking gorgeous, baby.”

“So gorgeous.” Eddie agrees as he wraps your hair around his hand, he pulls it so hard it makes your hands raise off the bed. He snaps his hips into you over and over again, the sound of skin slapping on skin and your slick practically echoing off the walls. 

“Bite me, Eddie.” You lean your head to the side, bearing your neck to him.

“Fuck, princess, are you sure?” Eddie’s thrusts slow for a moment as he looks down at you, hesitantly. He shoots Steve a questioning look and the other alpha gives him a reassuring nod.

“I’m so fucking sure, I’ve wanted it for as long as I can remember, I’m done waiting.” Eddie growls, pulling out of you and pushing you onto your back and slamming his cock back into you before you hardly have time to miss it. 

“You’re mine, baby, you always have been, and now you always will be.” Eddie presses his hand under your head so he can cup the back of your neck before leaning down and running his tongue along the column of your throat as he pulls his cock almost all the way out of you and then he bares his teeth, sinking them into your flesh while he slams his cock into you rough and deep. Every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire and you have the most mind blowing orgasm of the night. Eddie pulls away and looks at you like you just gave him the world, because you did, you’re his everything. 

“My turn. Where can I…?” You look over Eddie’s inked form, there isn’t much left that isn’t tattooed but as you’re looking for a spot to bite him, you spot an empty patch of skin right on the side of his neck, underneath one of his neck tattoos. You run your finger along it as you look into his chocolatey eyes. “Is this spot okay?”

“Of course, that’s your spot, remember?” Eddie cups your jaw and runs his thumb along the apple of your cheek. You try to search your foggy mind for what he’s talking about but you’re coming up short. You give him a puzzled look as you shake your head gently. “It was right after I presented when we were sixteen, we were sitting in the back of the van at the lake. It was a hot ass hell summer day so we went swimming and you brought lunch for us because you’re just always prepared like that.” Eddie chuckles fondly. “I was shirtless and had just gotten my first chest tattoo for my birthday and you look at me dead in the eyes, pointed at that spot on my neck and said ‘I know you want to be covered in tattoos one day, but you better always leave this spot open for me to mark’ and so I did.”

“Eddie’s that’s-” You eyes well up with tears as you look up at the man you’ve loved all your life. He’s so beautiful, his button nose, those plush pink lips, those sweet chocolate eyes that assured you on your worst days. You lost him, and you were so angry at him for it. But now he’s here, inside you, with a beautiful patch of porcelain skin that he kept bare for the last seventeen years, for you. “I fucking love you, Eddie munson.”

“And I fucking love you, sweetheart.” He sends you that goofy smile that you love so much and you wrap your arms around his neck pulling him down so you can sink your teeth into him. A second shockwave buzzes through your body as you feel your bond with Eddie snap into place, an unexpected orgasm taking you by surprise. “I’m glad we covered that because I’m going to fuck the shit out of you and knot you now.”

“God, you guys are so cute.” You hear Steve gush beside you and you smile over at him sweetly.

“I love you too, Stevie.” Your eyes don’t stay on him for long because Eddie rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re straddling him. He plants his feet on the mattress and grabs onto your ass as he fucks up into you hard and deep. 

“I love you honey, get that knot.” Steve chuckles and you suddenly feel like he’s too far from you. Your sweet, handsome, dorky doctor. 

“I wanna suck your cock.” You pout through the moans that are falling from your lips like a song from the way Eddie is fucking you. 

“Anything for you.” Steve crawls over to you and presses himself up on his knees, planting one foot on the mattress. He grips onto the back of your head and pulls you down to his cock. You open your mouth and Steve doesn’t waste any time thrusting into it, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. 

“Goddamn, princess, look at you.” Eddie groans as he continues to thrust up into you, using his grip on your ass to bounce you even faster up and down on his cock. “You’re such a good little omega, taking us both so well.”

“Mhm, you’re such a good girl.” Steve moans at the feeling of your lips wrapping around his cock, your tongue running along the vein on the underside of his shaft. His hand palms the back of your head as he starts to fuck your throat. Eddie’s thumb finds your clit and it has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Steve’s fingers lace through your hair, yanking your head back and his free hand wraps around your throat. “Look at me while Eddie makes you fall apart on his cock, I wanna see the look in your eyes while he takes what belongs to us.”

“Give your alpha’s your cum, cum on my cock, baby.” Eddie’s words are what teeters you over the edge. Your walls practically swallow his cock and it has him cumming right along with you. Eddie growls as his thick cock pulses cum into your wet cunt. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum too.” Steve’s grabs both sides of your head in his hands as he fucks your mouth until his balls twitch and he’s cuming in ropes down your throat as he stares deeply into your eyes. “That’s it, omega, swallow every drop.” 

“Shit, yes.” Eddie’s knot pops inside of you causing you to pull off Steve’s cock with a cry. The pain turns into another orgasm, your body going rigid as you fall forward on Eddie’s chest. You lay there, sweaty and panting as you come down from your high. Once your heart rate starts to even out you feel how right everything feels. You can feel your bond with Eddie and Steve both and you finally feel complete. Steve lays down on the bed next to you, looking over at you sweetly while he gently caresses your back. And you’ve never felt more at home than you do right now, wrapped in their fresh lemon and warm apple scents. 

“You did so good for us, omega.” Eddie sighs contently as he presses a kiss against your sweaty forehead. Your mind feels a little less foggy than before but you know it won’t be long until you’re a knot hungry monster again. 

“You’re amazing, honey.” Steve leans over to kiss your lips sweetly. “I’m gonna go to the store and get supplies for the week. Two knots won’t be enough for long.”

“You’re leaving?” Your brow pinches and you feel a sudden rush of panic hit you.

“Just for like thirty minutes, baby, I’ll be back as soon as you can. Eddie will be here with you. It’ll be good for you guys to have a moment to yourselves.” Steve kisses you again before getting up to get dressed. Eddie smiles up at him, mouthing thank you and Steve shoots him a wink. That makes Eddie blush even though they just made out less than thirty minutes ago. All three of you are definitely looking forward to exploring that more. Steve leans over to kiss your head again before leaving you and Eddie alone. 

“I’m truly sorry, sweetheart.” Eddie sighs. “I’m so sorry I deprived us of this for so long.”

“Yeah you really fucked up on that one.” You chuckle, pushing yourself up so you’re sitting, his knot still nestled inside of you. You smile down at him fondly as you take his face in your hands. “We have it now though, for the rest of our lives, and that’s all that matters. Holding onto that pain won’t do us any good.”

“I’m not worthy of you, I love you so fucking much.” Eddie pulls you down so he can kiss you deeply, pouring all his apologies and love into this one kiss that makes your head spin and your pussy clench. 

“I love you too, Teddie.” You giggle, resting your forehead against his. “I’m glad we covered that, because I’m really fucking horny again and your knot just went down.”

Eddie chuckles at you throwing his earlier words back at him before throwing you on your back. He leans over you, sending you that smile that you never want to go another day without seeing. “Alright then, let’s feed the knot monster.”

Taglist: @eddiesxangel @eerielamb @moonlightseranade @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @phantommoondoll @frombeyondthegravez @ali-r3n @sugasweettea @minniture @micheledawn1975 @bellalillyrose @bakusquadobsessed

Dividers by: @anitalenia & @strangergraphics

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

Soda flexes his fingers instinctively. Fiddles with the edge of his vest, pulls at a loose string at the bottom of his shirt. He wasn't nervous, per se. Just... fidgety. Steve side-eyes him once, bats his hand away from undoin' the buttons on his sleeve Darry had done up for him.

Somewhere out in the arena the announcer's voice echos off the stands, the crowd hissin' 'n booin' in one voice. Someone's ride cut disappointin'ly short. Not endin' bloody enough to earn the mobs sympathy.

There's light in Soda's veins. The rodeo's an alive thing 'n he can feel it twist 'n rear up all around him. He can smell the anticipation in the air, the thrum of a ride burnin' up his neck, down his throat, fillin' his lungs. Soon enough he'll be strung up between the sky 'n the swirlin' dust 'n for as long as he can hold tight (forever), fingers busted 'n bleedin' 'n clingin' on for a lifetime (a minute).

He can feel everythin'.

"You sure about this?" Steve asks, plaintively 'cause he knows the answer. He's got the collar of his vest popped up around his face to block out some of the dust, the edges of his tan lines showin', twistin' the buttons of the denim back 'n forth between calloused fingertips.

"Do ya hafta ask?" Soda's grin is sharp 'n laughin' 'n full of teeth. Steve always got a lil' nervy before Soda rode. 'N who could blame him? Maybe he was just makin' up for Soda's complete 'n utter certainty he'd be fine. 'Cause bad things just bounced right off Soda. Didn't stick one bit.

Steve nods lamely, looks out over the empty stables, sighs. "I don't."

"C'mon, Stevie." Soda nudges him hard, kicks out a boot, careful to keep his spurs tucked away. Steve knocks him away, rolls his eyes. "You're startin' to sound like Dar."

Steve scowls just like Soda knew he would. He leans further off the half wall he's perched up on 'n wags a mockin' finger in Steve's face.

"You're gonna get yourself trampled, Sodapop Curtis! If that horse doesn't kill ya I sure will!" Soda mimicks Darry's naggin' 'n Steve wants to keep lookin' put out but he can't really manage it anymore 'n the corner of his mouth crooks up.

"'N don't you go lookin' smug, Steven Randle! One day you're gonna crash that goddamn beater of yours in those fool-headed drags you're always mixed up in." Steve puts his hands on his hips 'n suddenly they're both gigglin'. Mouths wide open 'n throats lined with the packed earth.

"Sodapop Curtis?" They both shut themselves up right quick 'n one of the wranglers peers around the corner, beckons Soda on. Soda nods, hops off the wall, tugs on the bottom of his vest again. The man vanishes quick smart back around the corner.

Suddenly nothin's real funny at all. Soda can feel his heart thumpin' hard in his chest, kicks at the dirt. Steve looks pale. Studies Soda with narrow, dark eyes. Doesn't like what he sees.

"You sure?"

Yes. More than anythin'. "Yeah, man." Steve worries at his lip, doesn't say anythin' else. "Stop lookin' like you're sendin' me to the gallows, Stevie. I'll be fine." He shoots him a wink 'n Steve shakes his head, conceeds.

"Fine. Fine! You'll be fine." he throws his hands up, sounds like he's mostly tryin' to convince himself. Soda doesn't need assurin'. He'll be more than fine. He'll be alive.

Steve watches Soda grin, tip two fingers to his forehead, take a runnin' start towards the gate, jump to click his heels together 'cause he knows it'll make Steve laugh. 'N he does. But when Soda takes one last look back Steve's eyes are clouded 'n worried.

There's a breeze that blows through the gate that tastes like somethin' Soda's never felt before. Somethin' dark 'n cold 'n turns his stomach. Somethin' like the other side of anticipation. Like comin' down. Hard 'n fast.

"Hey Soda!" But then Steve's runnin' to catch up with him, stale air burnin' in livin' lungs. "Be careful out there, cowboy."

"Y'know me, Steve." 'N he tips his hat 'n hops the fence, smooth 'n practiced 'cause everythin's fine. Soda's alive. "Always." Like bein' careful was somethin' up to him at all.

The stands are packed. A mass of arms 'n legs 'n openin' 'n closin' mouths, whisperin' 'n hollerin' 'n sighin' all with one throat. The sun is honey in a glass, beatin' down 'n findin' every last one of the freckles dotted across Soda's cheeks 'n collar bone like hastily cast dice.

There's music playin' somewhere, creepin' out from the corners of the arena, shiftin' 'n echoin' 'n Soda can feel the tinny bass in his bones. The thunder before the lightnin'.

"-Sodapop Curtis!" The announcer shouts 'n suddenly every eye in the stands is on him. But Soda's only lookin' for a handful.

"Soda!" Someone calls his name over the wordless thrum of poundin' feet 'n wailin' voices 'n pointin' fingers. Pony's on his feet, jumpin' 'n shoutin'. Darry's got a hand on his shoulder to make sure he don't go straight over the rail with the sheer amount of thrashin' around he's doin' but he's hollerin' just as loud, grinnin' from ear to ear. Steve's pressed in on his other side 'n all that early grief seems to have burned right off him 'cause he could rival Pony with the sheer amount of wavin' 'n whoopin' he's doin'.

Soda grins, somethin' that hurts his face with the force of it. Not the kind of crowd pleasin' simperin' smirk that always got him tips down at the DX. Or the kind that pulled the corners of his mouth up but didn't really manage to fool anyone that knew him. No, Soda's grinnin' like he's full of light. 'N everyone could see.

He reaches up, pulls his hat off 'n shakes out his hair, bowin' deeply. The crowd wails. He's glowin'. He can feel it. He's on fire.

Someone hollers, crooks a finger, guides him up to the chute. The bronc rattles against the wall, tries to toss his head back, shifts angry 'n trapped 'n Soda pauses, places one hand against the soft pelt along his neck, feels his pulse beatin' hard 'n frantic against his palm.

Soda's never seen the ocean but he imagines the whole thing is there, rushin' through the bronc's veins, slammin' against his fingertips.

"C'mon, kid." Someone prods at him 'n Soda slides his hand down to the reins, throws himself into the saddle. The chute is burnin' metal, hot even through his jeans, the saddle is worn 'n sturdy 'n made for Soda. Everythin' sings.

'N then the gate is thrown open 'n the bronc doesn't even wait to clear the chute before he's buckin' up, desperate 'n wild. Soda clings on.

He's ridin' the back of a lightnin' bolt. He's never comin' down. Summer is in his fingers, on the back of his neck. He is a thousand focused things. He is August 'n July 'n especially June. He is the northern winds. He is the dust in his lungs. He is a cowboy. He's comin' home.

The next few things happen very fast.

The bronc twists unexpectedly. Soda's center of gravity pitchin' to the side. He scrambles to readjust, doesn't manage it. He feels himself tippin' 'n knows from years 'n years of practice he should just go with it. It's safer to just give it up. Fold your hand 'n wait a weekend to try again.

But Soda's burnin' up. 'N he doesn't ever want to go out. He can hold the whole world in his hands if he can just stay in that saddle.

So he spurs further, digs in his heels, tries to wriggle 'n fight 'n force.

It ain't enough. And the come down with Soda ain't ever pretty.

He tries to roll 'n the ground comes up to meet him fast. Too fast. He hits hard. Tries to pop to his feet. Keep movin'. Keep safe. Keep away. But he can't. Somethin' off center 'n off kilter. He can't place. His heart is beatin' so loud in his ears he can't hear nothin' else.

The bronc books for the other side of the stands, two wranglers beat it after him, cornerin' him, pullin' him away. But no one's lookin'. Not even Soda.

No. Every eye in that arena is trained on him. Splayed out 'n sittin' in the dust. For a moment there's silence. A ringin' in Soda's ears that turns into a rush. Singin' that fades off into screamin'.

He looks up into the stands, dazed, 'n turned around. He's still grinnin'. Can still feel that lightnin' bolt buzzin' against his skin. Like that year Soda was eight 'n Darry was twelve 'n he lost a bet 'n had to stick a fork in an electric socket. Just to see.

He'd fizzed out every light in the whole house 'n his daddy had damn near skinned him alive but Soda could still picture that feelin'. Like a Christmas tree or a house with all the lamps flicked on. Electricity all under his fingers, buzzin' 'n poppin' 'n speakin' its own language.

When he finds Darry out there in the crowd it all drains straight outta him. The kitchen sink with the plug pulled out. There's a look of deft horror on Darry's face. He's ashen, not movin' at all. Soda's stomach does a lurch 'n he hits the bottom. Hard.

For the first time he looks down. 'N for a moment he can't make sense at all of what he's lookin' at. That was his leg, right? Did it always look like that? Legs weren't supposed to bend that way, were they?

The crowd hisses, moans. It wasn't a long ride. But it was enough to earn their sympathy.

When he tips his head back again Darry's jumped the wall, runnin' hard 'n fast.

Funny. Soda giggles, 'cause he ain't thinkin' straight at all. If Darry had run like that at his last game his team woulda won. But then Steve 'n Pony are hot on his heels 'n Soda stops thinkin' anythin' at all.

'Cause maybe Soda's a bit of a bawl baby. That was fine with him. Better than to never cry at all, even when Steve 'n Two 'n Dallas teased him. But he doesn't think anyone could fault him now for pullin' the one leg he can still drag through the dirt up to his chest 'n lettin' out a low, tearin' sob that rips straight up from a place so deep in Soda it scares him.

'Cause he knows right there. Before Darry collects him up in his arms 'n carries him to the car. Before the drive, silent 'n hollow 'n filled to overflowin' with the knowin'. Before the doctors at the hospital have to reset his leg, Soda howlin' 'n sobbin'. Before Darry comes back into his room with the set in his jaw like someone died.

It's over. Soda's never gonna ride on the coattails of a summer wind ever again. He rode the lightnin'. 'N the lightnin' won.

[boyfriendstevie]

So like can we discuss bf!steve who lives for picnic dates?? Blankets on the grass, lovely weather, feeding each other fruit, your thighs in your sundress, eating you out in the car before dropping you off? ❤️

oh my GODDDD WE ABSOLUTELY CAN. we have to discuss it, actually. oral (f receiving), MDNI!!!

it'd be so fucking sweet. throwing grapes into each other's mouths, feeding the other strawberries, laying on the blankets together, your head on steve's chest while you look at the clouds and point out the weird shapes to each other. soft kisses in the sun. steve is quite literally golden, glowing in the sun, sunglasses perched on his freckled nose. UGH.

and then. before you can head home, he gets you in the backseat of his car, pushes your pretty sundress up to your hips, and spreads your thighs, big hands holding you open as he buries his face between them.

he's eating you out like he's a man starved. sucking and licking in just the right places. he's fucking moaning as he licks broad stripes through your folds, teasing kisses to your clit. you feel hot in every sense of the word; the way steve is very clearly getting off on this, but also in the way your skin sticks to the leather of his car's seats, your face burning as you whine and tangle your fingers in his hair.

"y'got the sweetest pussy, baby," he murmurs against the soft skin of your thigh, "prettiest, too."

his words make you moan, hips pushing toward his face, almost desperately, "steve, fuck-" your words are cut off as his tongue finds your entrance, dipping inside of you, his nose nudging into your clit. pleasure twists in your tummy, and your thighs threaten to close around steve's head, struggling against his strong hold on them.

you're already so fucking close, and then two of his fingers sink into your cunt as he sucks on your clit. it doesn't take long for you to fall apart for him, clenching around his fingers as they fuck in and out of you. it's almost pitiful the way you moan and squirm, back arching off of the seats.

steve doesn't want to seem to stop, fingers and tongue working you through your orgasm, and you have to push at him and wiggle your hips, gasping, "steve, 's too much, 'm sensitive-"

"sorry, sorry," he apologizes, though he doesn't sound all that remorseful, "y'just taste so good, baby. can't get enough of you. and you sound so pretty when you cum." and then, as if to prove his point, he brings his hand to his mouth, licking his fingers clean of your slick.

you're still panting as you try to catch your breath, and if you weren't already so hot, you know you'd be flushed at his action, "christ, steve."

and then, not long later when he drops you off at home, he gives you a sweet kiss goodbye. you can definitely still taste yourself on his lips.

[ask-the-curtis-gang]

silly question but since everyone writes back in letter, do you have specific handwritings in mind for them? like if you had to give them a font or something

NOT SILLY AT ALL!! anon I love you with my whole entire heart n I have thought about this EXTENSIVELY. ok so I have an approximation of everyone's handwritin I'll put below but I also have some bonus hcs too hehhe

Johnny has probably the most consistent n normal handwritin of the gang. all his letters get kinda rounded but generally? Great handwritin 10/10

Pony has loopy 'I was thinkin real hard about cursive when I wrote this but I didn't wanna commit' handwritin. all his letters kinda slant but again. real real good n legible. would let him write notes for me n trust I could read em 9/10

Steves writin always looks like he was pressin down a lil too hard n his letters are real sharp n don't all start on the same line but you can read it just fine. good middle marker for decent handwritin 8/10

two holds the pencil like a goddamn animal. inventin ways to hold that thing no man has seen before. his letters are also just. big. he can't write small. I imagine Pony's ALWAYS bitchin bout the fact two takes up half the notes with his writin. he ain't winnin any awards but. I can read it so. pass 7/10

now SODA. my beloved. the font for him in my mind is his BEST handwritin. is big n chunky but you can read it! his NORMAL handwritin? oh Jesus christ. illegible. people are always bringin things he wrote back to him to ask him what the hell it says. (half the time even HE can't tell) god bless that boy. he's got the writin of a doctor 3/10

darry is straight cursive. very formal. he's probably got the most by the book writin. his handwritin looks like it was ripped from a handwritin book. despicable. soda can't read it for shit (combine dyslexia with cursive you got a headache that could kill a horse) im with Soda here. can't read it. but as far as unbiased votin? his handwritin is literally perfect so. unfortunately 10/10

Dallas has alright but spindly lil handwritin. I know realistically his handwritin would be fuckin atrocious. like. runnin with the big dogs of goddamn illegible writin (cough soda cough) but idk. this font feels right for him. especially the w into the i. not the worst I've seen but when he ain't tryin good LUCK soldier. can't read for SHIT. 5/10

The Shepards are a lil less accurate for what I see in my head but they ain't awful. angela has tiny tight lil writin. she's probably got the best of the shepards. fun fact she's the only one of them to do her a's upright. if somethin needs to be well written? her brothers are askin her. but me? hm. yeah I guess I agree with her siblings. 7/10

Curly's is probably the most inaccurate from this list. his writin is so weird. it all connects like cursive but. it's absolutely is not. it's all kinda slanted n weird. but you can read it alright. his writin is also real small. that's a shepard thing tho. 5/10

Tim's writin is real simple. it ain't bad really. it's like the delinquent cousin of johnnys handwritin to be honest. legible. but he fuckin hates writin so. (honestly the most writin he's done in YEARS is these notes) not bad. not good. 5/10

[missjashin]

Steve asking Eddie to move in together and after the initial surprise Eddie starts making a face, kinda cringing and not really looking Steve in the eyes… So naturally Steve assumes that’s a no and he starts to panic that he is again the one who fell in love too easy, he is moving too fast and maybe Eddie wasn’t even that serious with him in the first place…

Meanwhile Eddie has already mentally started to pack his stuff and damn he has so much shit to pack, hence the cringing. Only realising he hasn’t properly answered when Steve starts backpedaling in his panic.

Obviously answers yes. But also promises to complain the whole time 🖤

[ghost-proofbaby]

Hi Ghost. I read your Robin fic, and I'm wondering if you can recommend other "gay" stories. It's pride, and I'm just not seeing a whole lot out there.

to be completely honest, the only actual queer stories i’ve read in the fandom have been centered around steddie.

because, like you’ve said, there’s not a whole lot out there outside of that.

i’m going to offer up my steddie recs (not steddie x reader but solely steddie, although there are some magnificent steddie x reader fics that include lovely feelings brewing between the boys!!), but also… followers, help some friends out? reblog with some of your favorite queer fics? pretty please?

i would recommend (and most are ao3 recs so be prepared for heavy emotional themes and canon haha):

sticky notes (has been discontinued, but also includes HOH!steve)

heartbreak hotline (includes smut/phone sex)

off the beaten path (challenging the headcanon of eddie knowing he’s gay and steve being clueless - steve realizes he’s gay before eddie does)

keep it steady, eddie (pretty popular amongst steddie fans so you might have heard of it already! includes robin x vickie)

i like to see you in the morning light (fix it fic for canon, where steve was eddie’s alibi when he survives 😌)

and of course, one of my ultimate steddie fic recs and one of my ultimate fic recs for this entire fandom, the lathe. this is the time loop fic for the fandom. i won’t be taking criticism. it made me bawl like a baby and was one of the first major fics i ever read in the fandom. i’ll never sing high enough praise for it. the twists in it are fucking remarkable. it’s just. it’s an experience. also, very popular, and for very good reason.

i would like to note that i haven’t read most of these in a hot minute, so my brief recounts aren’t very helpful probably. also, i know there’s a few notable authors amongst steddie readers, but i only included fics i’ve personally read.

as i said, i’m begging for anyone who sees this who has more queer fic recs to add to do so! i know there’s several in the fandom currently compiling lists as well as there’s been a few robin fics coming across my dash — i just haven’t read them yet! most of my queer fics i’ve gathered from ao3 as you can see lol. in ao3 we trust in this household 🫡

[plistommy]

i only like stonathan if steve is the bottom… other than that i do not care for it

Honestly? Same.

[loveshotzz]

are we getting Whatta Man Halloween anymore?

Hi baby, I’m afraid not.

I was going to make a long announcement a few days ago but I’ve been too nervous to do it. Life has been a little crazy for me lately, leaving a job I worked at for ten years to start a new career. Writing has been hard for me to focus on because of the the anxiety of what’s to come in my life outside of here besides the little blurbs I’ve been doing. I mean clearly I’ve been struggling just to finish My Name’s Elvira.

Whatta Man means so much to me and I felt like every time I opened my word doc I was trying so hard to make it as good as the first nights I wasn’t having fun. If I’m not having fun writing these nights, it’s not going to be fun to read :/ or what I had envisioned in my head and outlines.

It’s not that you won’t ever get it, I just don’t think I can give the story I want to give right now, and it made me feel guilty for so long that I just put off saying anything. The Foxy Lounge boys will be back once my life gets settled. I promise. ♥️

I plan on spending the rest of my vacation before my first day at my new job fulfilling your guys requests and possibly working on mechanic!steve and learning to have fun writing again.

I’m sorry to anyone that was really looking forward to it, and I hope you stick around for their return when the timing is better.

[littlexdeaths]

i really miss steeb

[rainintheevening]

For @sergeanttomycaptain, a belated birthday present. Much love. XOXOX.

More Steve and Bucky angst, medical guesstimation, and crying. Post-Ultron. Hint of Staron.

41. "Go back to sleep."

Ticking of a clock somewhere, and outside the open window wind rustling through the leaves.

Steve wanted to close his eyes and listen to it, let it lull him to sleep, but he didn’t dare. Not when the slow, shallow breathing of the man on the bed was so much louder.

It had been 24 hours since they'd made it back to the compound, since he'd hoisted Bucky's weight (so horribly, shockingly light) into his arms and run past the people with the stretcher and the green scrubs, since he'd waded into a blur of voices and questions and hands and machines and clean white sheets, since he'd laid his best friend down in the middle of it all, and he'd been shoved away to 'go clean up', to get the blood and the soot and the dirt and everything else off of him.

24 hours, and still, for all that the doctors and nurses had done and were trying to do, for all that Steve knew Tony was pulling out all the stops to help in the only way he could, every measurement showed one thing: Bucky was dying.

Steve shifted in his chair, glanced again at the screens on the monitors. Dr. Dow and Dr. Cho had explained enough for him to know what all of the numbers and symbols meant. They'd done their best to explain everything they understood.

It was the serum. It was eating Bucky alive. For whatever reason he had ended up so far into a state of dehydration and malnourishment that his enhanced body was chewing itself up in an attempt to repair and maintain itself.

In the warm glow of the nearby lamp, Bucky's face looked ghastly, cheeks hollow, sharp bones seeming in the cusp of breaking through skin. Eyes sunken in under thin, blue-veined lids in a way Steve knew too well from the battlefield, a way that chilled him to the bone, if he didn't look to where the man's chest rose and fell under the heated blanket. They'd shaved his filthy patchy hair, and the oxygen mask only added only added to the eerie look of it all.

Steve yawned, smothered it, shook his head. He needed to stay alert, he needed to be here for Bucky when the scales tipped, whichever way it went.

He hadn't had more than the occasional power nap since the tip came in about the Winter Soldier's possible location. What was it now, three days ago?

He fought back the pain in his chest, in his throat, at the thought of what he would have found if he and Nat had arrived even a few hours later. There's still a chance, he reminded himself.

"There still a chance, Buck," he murmured aloud. "You know you've always liked long odds. That's why you always bet on me. So I'm betting on you now, okay? I'm betting on your life."

There was no change in the wheezing breaths, no flicker of movement anywhere else.

It would turn tonight, Dr. Dow had said. Either the nutrients and fluids being siphoned into Bucky's body, at the highest possible rate, would begin to take effect and halt the deterioration, or Bucky would tip into irreversible organ failure.

Tonight would either be the start of a long recovery process, or the end of Bucky's life. For good, this time.

What happened to you? It was on a loop in Steve’s thoughts. What happened? How had he he ended up like this? What had rendered him incapable of caring for himself? Who had removed the metal arm? Why had he ended up half dead in a relatively new apartment in downtown Waco, Texas? Natasha and Sam were hunting down information, of course, but everything was sketchy, and Steve suspected the only source of the truth was lying on a hospital bed in the Avengers Compound medical wing, perhaps hours away from death.

What happened to you? Or maybe the real question was: Why didn't you come to me? I would have done anything to help you. Why didn't you call me for help?

In the end, Steve had come, but quite possibly too late.

*

Despite his best efforts, Steve dozed.

Jerked awake.

Talked for awhile, dredging up memories of their mothers laughing at Christmas time, or the Irish family that had lived across the street, or any one of those thousands and thousands of things that only he and Bucky knew about anymore.

Dozed again.

The clock ticked. He never looked for it, never glanced at the time on the top monitor. If this night lasted forever, he would be happy, as long as the next breath came, and the next, and the next.

He talked about Sam, about Nat, about their favourite foods and music and books, talked about the shows the twins liked to watch, and Rhodey's exploits in the kitchen.

Again he dozed.

He was startled to see the pattern on the blanket, surprised by the grey light suddenly sprung in the sky outside above the woods, and a robin's song warbling clear in the still air.

"Hey, Buck," he murmured, rubbing knuckles in his gritty eyes. "Hear that? It's morning. And you're still here."

Sound of rubber-soled shoes on smooth tile, heavy curtain drawn back, and Dr. Cho came quietly across to the monitors.

There were no trumpets, no crash of cymbals or burst of song, only quiet fingers tapping screens, and a warm voice saying, "Deterioration has halted. He plateaud about three hours ago. Levels have risen an average of point-four percent in the last half hour."

She smiled over at him, came to him as he tried to rise, and could not. How had he never noticed the way Helen Cho's smile could light up a room?

She patted his shoulder. "He'll live, Steve. We'll find out how permanent the damage is in the next few days, but he will live."

He nodded, tried to speak, but couldn't. The robin sang into the silence.

After she left, he cried. And then he stretched out on the floor, with a wadded up blanket for a pillow, and closed his eyes. Fell asleep to the sound of Bucky's breathing.

*

He was on the phone with Sharon, when Bucky woke for the first time.

Face still deathly thin and pale, ribs still straining against skin, but breathing deeper, more normal, and Steve could only promise Sharon that coffee 'sometime', could not tear himself away from his best friend's side.

He had Sharon on speakerphone, chuckling at her retelling of an old joke Nat had played on her in their SHIELD days, but his ears caught the change in Bucky's breathing, the faint guttural noises from behind the oxygen mask.

This time though, when he looked over, Bucky's eyes were open.

Squinting, filmy, grey-blue roving, searching, till Steve gasped out: "Bucky!"

Those eyes went wide then, snapping to his and on the screen, out of the corner of his eye, Steve knew there were jagged mountains beginning to race through that green line.

"Hey." He dropped his voice, slowed his lunge to a smooth careful lean. "Hey, Buck, it's just me, just Steve. I swear you're safe, I'm taking care of you, and I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. I swear. You're safe."

He reached under the blanket, found Bucky's hand, saw the eyes widen again as he gently squeezed it. Flesh and bone fingers in his, and they tightened suddenly around his, no stronger than a baby, but a burning sprang up behind Steve’s eyes, and he had to catch his breath.

"Buck, do you know me? Do you recognize me? It's Steve."

"Steve."

Harsh and whispery thin at the same time, muffled behind the oxygen mask, but it might as well have been a shout that echoed in Steve’s ear, reverberated through the chambers of his heart, lodged somewhere deep.

Steve had to work hard to keep the tremble in his stomach, and the ache in his chest, but his vision still blurred, and the tears were hot on his cheeks when he blinked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here and you're safe. I found you. You were in really bad shape, and it's been almost a week now, but I'm here, and you're safe. Do you trust me on that?"

He was desperate to avoid Bucky getting too agitated, thrashing or striking out. Not that he would do much damage, to anyone but himself, but that was precisely what Steve wanted to prevent.

He stared into Bucky's weary wild eyes, searching, waiting... and then the wildness bled away, and Bucky blinked slowly, lips forming a barely breathed, "Yes."

"Then you should rest," Steve whispered, choking back his tears, limbs gone all shaky, but he held onto Bucky's bony hand like a lifeline (gentle, oh so gentle though, he could too easily snap those thin fingers if he wasn't careful). "Go back to sleep. I've got this watch, Buck."

The hesitation was significantly shorter this time, the decision having really been made in answering the question of trust. Slowly his eyelids slid shut, and Steve felt the hand in his relax, just a hair.

Bucky's breathing dropped back into the deep rhythm of the past several days, and Steve dropped his head into his free hand.

Faint and tinny through the phone, he became aware of Sharon weeping too, her joy a little echo of his.

"He knows me!" Steve choked out. "He knows me!"

He knows me.

Starting from there, they could go anywhere.

[pcetstcrtured]

me: i want to be on this blog my brain as soon as i actually properly log in: are you sure about that?

[headkiss]

fall right into me

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: when something happens to your apartment and you need a place to stay, steve, your best friend, is quick to provide it for you. your prolonged proximity forces you both to realize some things.

word count: 13.6k

warnings: childhood bffs to lovers, absolute idiots in love, mentions of a negative relationship with parents, probably inaccurate descriptions of some things but it’s (say it with me) for the plot!!!

a/n: i know it’s been a LONG time since i’ve posted a long fic so thank u guys for ur patience <3 i had so much fun getting back to it and writing these two, and i hope it’s at least a little bit worth the wait!!! ily :,)

𝜗𝜚

Your shoes are still wet as you dial the first number that comes to mind: Steve’s.

He picks up on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Steve.”

“Hi,” you can imagine him on the other side of the phone, leaning casually against the wall, an easy smile on his face, “what’s going on?”

You’re not quite sure where to start.

Coming home from work earlier, you’d been excited to shower and change and lay around for the rest of the evening, your book hanging open in your lap and some mindless TV filling the silence.

The day seemed to have other plans for you, though, because as you walked down the stairs to your apartment—one in the basement of a sweet, older couple’s house who just never used the space and converted it—the carpet had made an ugly squelch as soon as you stepped on it.

You looked down at your shoe against the carpet, at the way its color was darker than usual from whatever water had gotten into it. Looking up, you found a complete mess. A piece of the ceiling hanging open right above your bed, water still dripping in steady drops from the gap, your bedding ruined among many other things.

You don’t know how long you stood there, hand over your mouth, eyes flickering over the damage like you were hoping it would vanish, like it was only something you imagined.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

The couple who owns the house came down when they heard you shout for them, unsure of what else to do. They’d both gasped when they came down, and began apologizing for something that really wasn’t their fault before one ran up to call whoever it was they needed to call to fix this and the other comforted you with a gentle “we’ll take care of it, sweetie.”

You nodded, eyes still roaming your space that was now uninhabitable.

It’s an old house, something was bound to happen at some point, you only wished it wasn’t so inconvenient for you. A small leak, you could have handled, but the ceiling practically caving in?

Yeah, it was a complete fucking mess.

Hours later, with the damage assessed and set to take a few weeks to fix up, you’re on the phone with the one person you’d known would pick up.

You fill Steve in on what happened, and his first response is a sigh of, “Shit.”

“Yeah, shit,” you agree. “And now I’m gonna have to live with my parents for a while and I don’t know how I’m gonna go back into that house, Steve.”

If you’re being honest, the couple you live with now was kinder to you than your parents were. You suppose that’s one of the many things that you and Steve have bonded over.

“Just come live with me, instead,” he offers without hesitation.

Steve says it like it’s obvious, a no-brainer, and you guess it should be, since you’ve slept over at the Harrington’s house countless times before. Only, this is different because you’d be staying for a while, because you’d be needing his help, which makes you feel all awkward and guilty.

He’s been your absolute best friend for as long as you can remember, and you’re one hundred percent sure you’d offer the same thing if the roles were reversed, but that doesn’t make it any easier for you to accept, not when you’re already frazzled from the events of the day.

“No, Steve, I’m sorry I’m just being dramatic,” you say, twisting the phone’s cord around your finger. “I’ll be fine, really. It’s just a month, or so, and I don’t wanna be in your way or-”

“When have you ever cared about being in my way, angel?” The pet name he’s called you ever since your ninth grade Halloween party slips out naturally, the way it always does. “Besides, this house is too fucking big for me as it is, and you know my parents won’t be around to care, either.”

“I can’t ask you to let me move in, Steve.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing you’re not asking. I’m offering. It’ll be like that one week when we were twelve and you stayed over for spring break, only longer. It’s perfect!”

There’s a small smile ghosting across your face as you recall the memory he’s talking about. A blanket fort in their spacious living room, sleeping bags and pillows piled inside it along with two flashlights.

You can picture the way he looks on the other end of the phone, his hair a bit messy from running his hands through it during the day, one strand rogue against his forehead, his shoulder leaned carelessly against the wall the way it usually is when he stands. Like he can’t be bothered to hold himself up, like there’s constantly a weight on him.

“Are you sure about this, Steve? It’s really okay if you’re not. I swear I’ll be fine.”

“As if I’m letting you spend multiple weeks back in your parent’s house. You’re staying with me, alright?” His voice is insistent, yet kind, letting you know that he’s being honest, that he means it. “We’ll order pizzas and watch shitty romcoms, ‘kay?”

“You can call romcoms shitty all you want, but we both know you get teary at every single one.”

“Don't change the subject, angel. Also, fuck off,” he says, though you can hear the smile in his voice. “So, you’re living with me, yeah?”

You don’t think you could say no to him even if you wanted to.

“Yeah, alright, Steve. Thank you so much.”

“None of that. I know you’d do the same.”

There’s something beautiful about the kind of trust and ease that comes with a friendship as long as yours. One where you’ve watched each other grow up, awkward phases and all, and stuck together the entire way. There’s no questioning whether or not you’d be there for each other if you were in need.

It’s known, felt. Like a fact.

“Now,” he continues, “I’ll pick you up, okay? Ten minutes, tops.”

“Okay.”

“You need me to bring boxes for your stuff?”

“I’m not sure how much is worth keeping. It’s pretty ugly in there.”

Your voice goes small at the end, because the gravity of it all is really sinking in. You’ll have to replace a lot of stuff. Stuff you don’t have money for right now.

But, you haven’t let yourself cry just yet, so you swallow it down.

“I’ll bring some anyway, then. We’ll figure it out, angel, don’t worry.”

“Thanks again, Steve. See you soon.”

“Ten minutes,” he assures you, then the line clicks.

-

True to his word, Steve arrives in under ten minutes, which isn’t surprising considering the size of Hawkins, but feels reassuring all the same.

You’re sitting on the curb in front of the house when Steve’s BMW pulls over on the other side of the road, and you stand just as he climbs out and shuts his door, rounding the car and jogging over to you.

His keys jingle as he tucks them into the pocket of his faded jeans, his opposite hand coming up to squeeze your shoulder, “You okay?”

The warmth of his palm seeps through your work shirt that you’ve yet to change out of, and you let your eyes fall shut just for a second before looking at his face, “Guess so,” you nod. “Maybe ask me again after all of this?”

Steve’s arm winds itself over your shoulders, tugging you into his side and dropping a kiss to the top of your head, simple as an instinct. “I’ve got you. We’ll get through this, angel.”

We’ll, he says. A team.

You reach up and squeeze his hand and nod, guiding him to the side-entrance leading to your basement apartment.

“I hope you didn’t wear your good shoes for this,” you say.

Steve looks down at his feet and shrugs, “Shoes can be replaced.”

He lets you lead the way down the stairs, his footsteps close behind yours. You wince when you look at the damage again, even though you’d seen it minutes ago. You can't bring yourself to look at Steve, to see the reaction on his face, because you think it’ll just make it all more real.

He mouths the word ‘fuck’ while you aren’t looking, then claps his hands once. “Okay, let’s figure out what we can save, yeah? Where do you want me?”

You’re grateful for his gentle guidance at what to do. “Maybe the bathroom? Everything in there should be fine, so it just needs to be packed.”

“‘Kay. I’ll just go grab some boxes from my car,” Steve says. He squeezes your hand once before heading up the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”

You decide to tackle the worst spot first. Though the place is more like a studio, the side that houses your bed and your closet is the most affected, so you head over there and try to tune out the squish of the carpet beneath your feet.

You’re opening the sliding doors to your closet when Steve comes back, dropping a stack of boxes by your feet and running his hand down your arm softly before heading over to the bathroom to pack for you.

Even his presence seems to be making things a little bit easier for you, and each time he finds a small way to touch you or speak to you, to remind you that he’s there, you’re glad for it.

Half of your closet is a gross, wet mess, but some things are salvageable, which you take as a win. Things might be damp, but at least it’s only water, you suppose. A cycle in the dryer and most things will be wearable again.

Your dresses that are hung get the worst of it, soaked and smelly, and you decide that it’d be easier to get a couple new ones than to try and save what’s there.

Steve checks in every now and then, poking his head out of the bathroom’s doorway to look at you and make sure you’re doing alright, giving you a thumbs up when you look over to him.

You’re not sure how you’d be managing this if you were alone, and you’re thankful that you don’t have to.

The next time he checks on you, you’re by your nightstand.

Sitting atop of it is a framed picture of you and Steve from summer camp when you were around ten years old, maybe younger. Only now, the picture’s stained with water and the frame you’d decorated all those years ago at camp is a splotchy mess.

Where yours and Steve’s handwriting used to be, is now a blur from the water seeping into the wooden frame, the marker’s colors muddy. You frown, picking it up and running your thumb over the edge.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re tearing up, frustrated and sad and tired. Memories like this one are the most special to you, the ones that have kept you going for so long, and just like that, the picture that’s sat on your nightstand since being taken is gone, and it fucking sucks.

“Hey, angel?” Steve calls.

When all you do is sniffle and mumble an “mhm?” in response, he sets the box he’d been packing on the bathroom counter and walks over to you.

He comes up behind you, resting his hands on your upper-arms and peering over your shoulder at the ruined picture.

“It was my favorite one,” you say, voice breaking a little. You wipe your tear away as it trails down your cheek, your own fingertips too harsh against your skin.

Although it’s soaked and splotchy now, Steve knows which picture it is. The one where you’ve both got your neon summer camp t-shirts on, the one where his cheeks and nose are completely sunburnt and you’re both grinning up at the camera from your seats on the ground.

Steve’s clutching a stick in his hand for some reason, and you’ve got your fist tangled in the sleeve of his shirt.

It feels like no time and forever has passed since then.

Steve grabs the picture and pries it gently from your hands, setting it back onto the table and turning you around in his grip to face him.

“We can fix it,” he tells you, his brown eyes all soft as his hands come up to cup your face, thumbs swiping your tears away.

“But the frame-”

“We’ll fix it, angel. I’ll find a way, okay? We can pack it in one of the boxes and figure it out.”

“Steve-”

“Look at me,” he urges you when your gaze flickers to the ground. You listen. “This fucking sucks, I know it does, but you’re strong and I’m here, and we can handle this.”

His voice is quiet, but sure. You search his face for any trace of a lie and find none. He really believes what he’s saying, and he really believes in you.

“Thank you for being here.” You take a deep breath and drop your forehead against the collar of his shirt. “I’m sorry for crying. I know it’s kinda stupid. Most of this is replaceable, it’s just-”

“It’s not stupid,” he says, letting his chin rest atop your head. “You’re allowed to cry. Hell, I’d probably be kicking and screaming on the floor like I'm back in the terrible twos.”

You laugh wetly into his shirt.

“Now,” he says, pulling back and putting his hands on his hips, “the quicker we pack, the quicker we go home. I’ll even let you wear a pair of my good fuzzy socks.”

A smile tugs at your mouth. “Deal.”

-

Steve wouldn’t let you do much of the work after that.

Instead, he simply held up items for you to assess from where you’d been leaning against the wall and packed it into a box if it was a ‘yes,’ or tossing it aside dramatically just to try and get you to laugh if it was a ‘no.’

Once things were sorted through and packed, you loaded everything into Steve’s car—which wasn’t a whole bunch, considering how much you had to leave behind.

You’d refused to let Steve carry the boxes all on his own, though he tried, but he still managed to open the doors for you whenever you made it to his car, even when his own hands were full, too.

By the time you were finished, you were drained. It felt like you’d lived multiple days in the one. An eight hour shift opening at the store, then coming home to a wrecked apartment. All you wanted to do was shower and lay down and not get back up.

Steve knows you well enough to be able to tell when it’s time to fill the silence and when it isn’t, and on the drive back to his place, while your head was leaned against his window, he knew to stay quiet and give you a bit of space.

He turned the radio on, but not too loud, letting the songs hum through the speakers. At every stop sign, he reached over and gave your thigh a light squeeze. Reassuring, kind, somehow exactly what you needed at the moment. Nothing more, nothing less.

You were no stranger to the Harrington’s house, having been there countless times since you were little, but it feels more intimidating now, knowing you’ll be staying. You feel silly for being worried, but you are. Asking for help makes you feel like a burden.

Steve, however, doesn’t let you entertain that thought for long, parking in his driveway and jogging around to open the passenger door for you. “Honey, we’re home!”

“Dork,” you say, though you accept his hand and let him tug you up out of the car.

Grabbing the first couple of boxes, Steve leads you inside and upstairs, right to the guest room across the hall from his own bedroom. The closest one to him.

The house has at least two guest rooms, though you suppose with how little Steve's parents are around, you could consider there to be three. Three spare rooms and Steve puts you up in the nearest one possible. It makes your heart squish in your chest, how caring he is. He doesn’t even have to try, really, the goodness in him shows even when he tries to keep it hidden.

It only takes a few trips down to his car and back before all of your boxes are stacked against the wall. You decide you’ll deal with them later.

Steve runs over to his room and grabs a set of pajamas that you’d left there, and hands them to you. “I figured you’d wanna wash up.”

“You calling me smelly, Harrington?”

“Shut up, I think you smell nice. Usually.”

“Hey!”

“I’m teasing, angel.” He ruffles your hair. You swat his hand away. “You know where the bathroom is, and there should be soap and stuff in the shower already. Just yell if you need something, okay?”

You do know where the bathroom is. You have your own toothbrush in a cup by the sink, a set of travel-sized skin care products in the cupboard behind the mirror for whenever you end up staying over.

It’s funny, you’ve always felt more at home here than at your own parents house, and though he hasn’t said it to you, Steve much prefers this house when you’re in it. There’s a warmth that comes with your presence that makes him ache when it’s not around.

You nod, “Thank you again for letting me stay, Steve. I won’t be in the way, promise.”

“I want you in the way. You know you’re always welcome. This is no different.” He shrugs, “Plus, it’ll be nice having you around. Place always feels so empty when it’s just me.”

“Maybe I’ll just stay forever, then,” you say, tone light and joking.

Steve, completely serious, says, “I’d let you.”

There’s a zip that goes through you when he says it, quick as lightning, something you’ve never felt—or noticed, rather—around him. It throws you off just a little.

“Anyways,” Steve cuts your thoughts short, “I’ll let you get settled. Pizza will be waiting for you when you’re done.”

He leaves the room before you can thank him again, his footsteps retreating and heading downstairs.

You’ve been to his house a million times, so you don’t really feel the need to ‘get settled’ but you desperately need a shower so that’s where you go.

You stay in for longer than you need to, letting the too-hot water run down your neck and back.

When you finally do step out of the bathroom, now clad in your pajamas, and head downstairs, Steve’s sitting on the couch in the living room, the romcoms he owns sitting out in front of the TV for you to choose from, your favorite blanket resting on your side of the couch, and pizza boxes on the coffee table just as promised.

It’s the best thing in the world, you think, to have a friend like Steve.

-

You’ve been staying at Steve’s for a couple of days already, and time seems to fly by a little quicker when you’re there, especially when you’re around him.

He’s taken it upon himself to have coffee ready in the pot for you every morning, one of your favorite mugs already next to it on the counter. You’ve cooked breakfasts together (pancakes one day, where you’d done most of the work, or something simple as toast when you both have to get to work), ordered dinners, and Steve comes home from his shifts with a new movie to watch almost every day.

It’s been so nice. Almost perfect, actually.

This morning, the first day where your shifts happen to be at the exact same time, he’d even insisted on driving you to work. It was an easy yes, considering it wasn’t out of his way at all.

After a short stint of working together at the grocery store in ninth grade, and your subsequent firing from the job after a month of constantly distracting each other on the clock, Tim, the grocery manager, took it upon himself to warn Hawkins not to hire the both of you together.

Eventually, you’d taken the closest you could get which resulted in you working at the arcade and Steve next door at Family Video.

You share a parking lot. Steve already drives you to work most days. You like to put up a bit of a fight just to annoy him.

Though you haven’t worked together in years, and he isn’t far away by any means, you miss having Steve around on days like this. Where the arcade is quiet save for the sounds of the games in the background, where you’re simply babysitting the desk and cleaning things multiple times to try and make the hours pass by.

If Steve were with you, he’d make stupid jokes that you don’t wanna laugh at but do, or coerce you into playing the games while on the clock with the change you find whenever you’re cleaning.

He’d probably trash talk you, and bump your hip with his while playing pinball, and be a sore loser, and for some reason you want him around so bad.

You chalk it up to getting used to spending hours and hours with him, every single day, these past couple of days. Staying with him has made you miss him more, you think.

That’s it.

Meanwhile, over at Family Video, Steve isn’t feeling too different from you.

He’s spent the morning stocking shelves, memories popping into his head whenever he’d come across a movie you loved or watched together, while Robin’s been manning the desk.

Then, when his cart was empty and put back into the back room, he sat on the chair behind the front desk, spinning around until Robin stopped him with her foot and asked what he was thinking so hard about.

Steve caught her up on what had happened with your apartment (you’d told him he could tell her, because she’s your friend too and would find out sooner or later) and how you’d ended up staying with him in his house.

She raised her eyebrows and hummed in a way that was automatically suspicious, because Robin isn’t very good at hiding things.

“What?” Steve asks.

“Nothing.” When Steve only gives her a pointed look, Robin continues, “Well… are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Now, Robin is one of Steve’s closest friends, and him one of hers, and she supports him in pretty much everything that he does even when she teases him relentlessly along the way, but she cares about both of you and doesn’t want to see anyone hurt.

She can read Steve better than he can read himself, probably, because to Robin, it’s clear that he feels more than friendly towards you. And he doesn’t even know it.

When they became closer, it was clear to Robin, even before meeting you, just from the way Steve spoke of you, that there was a spot reserved for you in his life that couldn’t be filled by anyone else.

He would say it’s that of ‘best friend’ but Robin would call it something even bigger than that. Still, even though she thinks he’s an absolute dingus, she’s trying to let Steve figure it out for himself.

Clearly, it’s taking fucking forever.

He looks confused at her question, “Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?”

Robin sighs and resists the urge to drop her forehead against the desk and decides on, “You know what they say: become friends with your roommates, don’t become roommates with your friends.”

“Whoever they are, they’re dumb as shit,” Steve says. “She’s been over, slept over, hundreds of times. It’s not any different, just longer.”

“I guess so,” she settles on. “The rules of the world never really seem to apply to you two.”

“That’s because the rules of the world are also dumb as shit.”

“How would you know? It’s not like you’ve ever tried following them.”

“‘Cause I’m a rule breaker, Robs.”

Steve wiggles his eyebrows. Robin shoves the rolling chair he’s sitting on with her foot, sending it into the other side of the desk with a thud.

“Don’t think that smoking weed in your backyard is enough to call yourself a rule breaker, dingus.”

-

That night, your routine was pretty much the same.

Steve was already waiting for you in his car when you left the arcade, a smile spreading onto his face when he saw you making your way across the parking lot to him, your skirt swishing a little with the breeze.

Rather than go straight home, you made a stop at your apartment to talk things over with the couple who owned the home. They’d met with a builder and plumber about getting everything fixed and wanted to walk you through it all.

Steve came with you and held your hand, and both of them cooed at him and pinched his cheeks and called him a cutie before getting to the important stuff.

After going over what had to be done (rip out the carpet, replace it, fix the pipes and make sure no others were at risk, replace the ceiling, and more you couldn’t even remember already), they’d assured you that they would be taking care of it all. Covering the entire cost.

You probably would’ve argued if not for how little money was in your bank account, and how stubborn you knew these people to be. Instead, you’d squeezed them both and thanked them while your eyes grew misty with tears.

Steve’s hand stayed in yours and squeezed when you sniffled.

He knew, because he knew pretty much everything about you, that these people were kinder to you than even your own parents. That, if this had happened at their house, they would’ve found a way to blame you for it.

You feel lucky to have found that kind of parental love elsewhere, sad that you didn’t know exactly what it felt like beforehand.

After giving the couple Steve’s phone number to call in case they needed you and giving them both another hug, you and Steve headed back home.

Home, you call it. Like it’s yours.

Sometimes it feels like it is.

Later, after you and Steve have both showered and had dinner and gotten comfy in your sweats, you’re back in the living room, Steve shows you the movie he’s brought back this time.

“Gremlins?” You ask, smiling and shaking your head.

“Hell yeah, angel. It’s a classic.”

Steve sets everything up, joining you on the couch after pressing ‘play’ on the movie and adjusting the volume with your guidance.

“So, how was work?” Steve asks during the opening credits. The two of you have a hard time being next to each other and not talking. It’s why you get dirty looks whenever you go to the movies.

“Weekdays are so boring, Steve,” you say, letting your head fall against the back of the couch. “You’re so lucky you have Robin to entertain you during the day. I think I dusted like, ten times at least.”

“Robin is a pain in my ass.” He says. He doesn’t really mean it, because even when she is, he’s glad to have her around. A different kind of gladness than he feels with you. “She kept pushing me every time I sat in the rolling chair. There’s probably a dent in the desk.”

“That’s because you were probably hogging the chair, Steve.”

“What the fuck!” Steve’s smiling when he says it, lacking any sort of anger. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

Your smile mirrors his, the way it always does. It’s contagious, you think, the way his eyes crinkle at the corner.

Shrugging, you say, “I don’t know, I’d wanna push you around on that chair too, I think.”

“You’d spin me too much. I’d get sick all over you and then nobody’s happy.”

“Don’t talk about barf while I’m eating, Harrington.”

You throw a piece of popcorn at him. It bounces off his cheek and lands on his lap, and he doesn’t even flinch. Steve just picks it up and pops it into his mouth.

When the bowl’s empty, you lean forward and set it on the coffee table before sinking back into the couch, Steve's shoulder brushing yours. You let the warmth seep through your clothes and shut your eyes.

It’s a little more than halfway through the movie when Steve realizes you’re asleep. You’d been quiet, sure, but Steve only thought that meant you were paying attention to the movie.

That was, until your head slipped and rested against his shoulder.

He looked down at you, at the hair falling across your forehead (he smoothed it away gently, so it wouldn’t be in your eyes or your mouth), your eyebrows relaxed and free of any worry, your chest rising and falling with steady breaths.

He thinks of how tired you must be, after everything. Your apartment and dealing with the aftermath both emotionally and physically, working long shifts most days to keep your bank account full.

Steve, though he doesn’t let himself look too deep into it, also thinks of how beautiful you are. Now and always.

Not wanting you to get a kink in your neck from the position, Steve decides to rouse you from sleep as gently as possible. He slips a hand under your head to keep it steady and maneuvers himself to kneel in front of you.

“Hey, angel,” he almost whispers, thumb dragging across your cheek. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

Your nose scrunches and you grumble, but after some coaxing, you blink your eyes open and squint at Steve. You blame your half-asleep mind on the way you nuzzle into his palm. “Hmm?”

“You fell asleep.”

“Oh, sorry,” you mumble.

Steve laughs softly. “Don’t be sorry, I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

The warmth of his hand leaves your cheek as he stands and holds his hands out for you to grab. He pulls you up off the couch and starts leading you towards the stairs.

You knuckle at your eyes on the way, a tiny smile gracing your face at how sweet Steve’s being. As if you haven’t fallen asleep on his couch plenty of times before.

Still sleepy, you stumble a little on the stairs, but Steve catches you easily with an arm around your waist and a small “Careful.”

He leaves his arm there the rest of the way to what’s become your bedroom, guiding you over to the bed and lifting the covers for you.

Tomorrow, you’ll regret not brushing your teeth or washing your face before climbing in bed. But today, you don’t feel like risking not being able to sleep again if you wake yourself up further.

You’re practically asleep again by the time you’re settled with your head on the pillow as Steve tugs the blankets over you.

You’re just awake enough to feel the light press of his lips on your forehead and a soft “Goodnight, angel” against your skin before he leaves the room and shuts the door behind him.

-

On a random Thursday that you and Steve both have off, he convinces you to let him take you to the mall.

“We should go shopping,” he says when you walk into the kitchen. It’s a little later in the morning, having slept in since it’s a day off, the sun slipping through the window in warm beams.

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Like, groceries?”

“No, like shopping shopping. You know, the mall?”

You lean against the kitchen island, the countertop cool on your back where it touches the sliver of skin between your tank top and sleep shorts. Steve has his shoulder against the fridge, his arms crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his t-shirt tight against his muscles. Not that you’re looking.

You squint at him, trying to find his motive on his face. “You literally buy whatever the mannequins are wearing to avoid shopping.”

“That’s what they’re there for!” The sass in his voice has you biting back a smile. “You need new clothes,” he continues, “and I need to get out of this house.”

“We can do something else, Steve,” you say. “I thought you hated shopping.”

“Well, I don’t hate you.” There’s a pause, Steve’s eyes lowering to that sliver of skin above your shorts. He flicks them back to your face quickly, hoping you didn’t notice, because even he’s not sure what compelled his eyes to wander. “Plus, Eddie called me a hermit the other day and I really can’t stand for that, can I?”

“Ohhh,” you ignore the way your skin suddenly feels warm beneath his gaze, “so you need to make a public appearance to prove Eddie wrong?”

“Exactly. We’ll replace some of the things you lost and restore my reputation. Two birds, one stone, right angel?”

So that’s how you’d ended up at the mall. After Starcourt burnt down, the closest place was a couple towns over, and Steve (as always) offered to drive.

He lets you pick the music the entire way, sings along when you hold your water bottle by his mouth like a microphone, even attempts to harmonize with you which just ends in laughter because neither of you sounded that great.

You’re a couple of stores in, and Steve’s been complaint-free so far—which makes sense, since this was his idea, but you’ve caught him side-eyeing some things, so you know he’s got some remarks in his head he just hasn’t said out loud—and follows you around as you browse. You try not to take too long, because you can’t imagine that this is any fun for him.

“How about that one?” Steve asks, pointing at one of the dresses hanging along the store’s wall.

He’d seen your apartment, though that was a bit ago, and he remembered what you’d lost the most of, along with the type of stuff you like. He pays attention like that, in small, quiet ways that you think mean the most.

He knows you. He cares enough to know you.

“Yeah, that’s really pretty, actually,” you admit.

At your approval, Steve grabs one in your size (which he also just happens to know) and adds it to the couple of things he’d already been holding for you. Every time you picked something up, he was quick to snatch it from you, telling you it was ‘too hard to browse with your hands full.’

After making your way through the rest of the store, you decided to head back to try things on, holding out a hand for the stuff Steve’s holding. “You can wait out here, I’ll be quick.”

“Hold on,” he says, holding the hangers out of your reach. “Why do you think I’m here, angel? I wanna help you pick.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Give me a fashion show, yeah?”

“Oh my God,” you mumble, letting him follow you to the fitting rooms.

They’re hidden behind the back wall of the store, a hallway painted bright blue with pink changeroom doors on one side, and white benches along the other.

“Hi there,” an employee with auburn hair greets you both, her smile wide and kind, though you know it’s a practiced one. Customer service smile. “How many you got there, darling?”

“Oh, um,” you turn back towards Steve, who’s counting the hangers in his hand. “Five.”

“Perfect!” The girl takes the key hanging around her neck and unlocks one of the rooms for you. She takes the clothes from Steve and hangs them up inside for you, then turns to the two of you and says, “Your man can have a seat right here. We call them the ‘boyfriend benches.’”

“He’s not my-”

“Thanks,” Steve says, cutting off your correction because for some reason he didn’t want you to correct her.

Did he… like the idea of being your boyfriend?

Fuck. No. He just didn’t want you to have to explain the whole situation in your rambly way. That’s all.

The redhead smiles again, “Holler if you need anything,” she says before walking off.

You stand there for a second, something like confusion on your face. Did it look like you were boyfriend and girlfriend?

“Come on,” Steve says, snapping the both of you out of whatever that was. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“I can't believe you’re making me do this,” you say, walking into the fitting room and shutting the door.

You try on a couple of sweaters first, and Steve feels the fabric both times, making sure that it’s not scratchy on your skin. Then, there’s just some basic t-shirts that aren’t all that exciting, but Steve says they look nice anyway.

Finally, you get to the dress he picked out.

It really was pretty. A midi-length with a ruffled hem and straps that tie into little bows on your shoulders. You don’t always feel good in your clothes. Sometimes you wish you could crawl out of your skin when you look into the mirror, but right now, you don’t hate what you see.

You actually like it.

“Well?” Steve calls softly from the bench.

In response, you open the door and step out so he can see you.

Steve’s seen you in plenty of dresses—hell, you went to prom together—but for some reason this one makes his heart beat just a little bit quicker. Maybe it’s simply the fact that it looks great on you, or the way you’re smiling shyly as he looks you over.

Or, maybe it’s because he’s the one who picked it.

He stands up, spinning his finger in the air in a gesture for you to twirl. You roll your eyes but do it anyway, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. The hallway of fitting rooms isn’t very big, so with both of you in it, you’re standing toe to toe, the gold flecks in the middle of Steve’s eyes and the faint freckles that dot his nose are visible from where you stand.

As if he can’t help it, Steve lifts a finger and dips it beneath the strap on your shoulder. Not moving it or undoing it, just gliding along your skin where it sits.

“You look beautiful,” he says. His voice goes all quiet and soft when he says it, and his eyes widen a tiny bit, like he hadn’t meant it to slip out that way. It sounded… more than friendly. He clears his throat and steps back as much as he can in the small space, his finger leaving your skin. “I have great taste. Clearly.”

You blink at him, then shake yourself out of it as much as you can. “Yeah. Don’t let it get to your head.” You lift the tag where it hangs by your armpit and look at the price. You gasp and swat Steve’s arm. “Steve! Why would you let me walk into a place so expensive?”

You probably should’ve looked at the tag beforehand, but here you are. Steve, shrugging exaggeratedly, says, “I didn’t know!”

“Okay, I’m gonna change before she comes back. We can make a run for it.”

“We’re not stealing.”

“I know, but they look at you all judgemental when you try stuff on and don’t buy something. Trust me.”

You turn and go back into the fitting room to put on your own clothes, taking a look at the dress in the mirror one last time before shaking your head at yourself.

Steve, however, takes the opportunity to leave you and head back out into the store. He finds the dress easily and grabs another one in your size from the rack and heads to the cashier.

He’s just finishing up, bag in hand, when you walk out and meet him at the front of the store.

“For you,” he says, holding out the bag for you to take.

“Steve…” You grab it and look inside. Your chest aches when you see the dress, your heart suddenly too full and your stomach fluttering stupidly. “You didn’t have to do that. I would’ve been fine with something from the Gap.”

“I know that,” he says, a hand lifting to scratch at the back of his neck. It’s a nervous tick of his, and the thought of him being nervous right now makes you melt even more. “I wanted to get it for you. You looked too pretty in it not to have it.”

Your eyes catch his, and again, something passes between you that you don’t think you’ve ever felt before. A fizzle, a spark.

You rock back on your feet, looking down at the ground before meeting his eyes again. They’re so fucking soft it makes you wonder how lucky you have to be to have him in your life. Being your best friend, driving you to work even when he doesn’t have a shift, offering you a place to stay, buying you a dress.

He’s the sweetest boy you’ve ever known.

“Well,” you twist the straps of the bag around your fingers just to keep them busy. “Thank you, Steve. This is really nice.”

His knuckle traces down your arm just once, featherlight. “You’re welcome, angel.”

You don’t buy anything else after that, instead stopping at the food court for fries, stealing from each other’s baskets, smiling and slapping hands away.

It’s the best day you’ve had in a while.

-

You don’t think anything you do will convey just how grateful you are that Steve has been so kind to you. Always, but especially now. Letting you stay with him and refusing to let you pay rent. (“I don’t even pay rent, and I live here all the time.”)

But, this morning, you’ve decided you’re gonna try.

Steve’s favorite meal of the day happens to be breakfast, which is funny, considering he usually eats something as simple as cereal. He’d told you once that it was because, as a kid, breakfast was the most peaceful of meals, his parents too busy getting ready for work or wherever they were going that he’d have the kitchen table to himself.

Lunch was usually spent at school, and Steve was never a fan of school to begin with. Then there was dinner, which his parents (when they were home) still wanted to have all together. They’d ask him questions and make backhanded comments about every single answer he gave. He never won at dinner.

So, breakfast was, and has remained, his favorite.

You made sure to get up early enough to give yourself time to get everything ready before he wakes up. Steve’s usually the one making the coffee in the morning, and you figured the least you could do was give him a break.

Yesterday, while Steve had been at work, you went over to the Wheeler’s and asked Nancy if you could borrow their waffle maker. She’d directed the question to her mother, who went and grabbed it for you and handed it over with a smile. You promised to take good care of it and have it back in a couple of days.

By the time Steve walks into the kitchen, you’ve already made the batter and set out the toppings—berries, maple syrup, whipped cream—like a buffet. However, he just so happens to come in as you’re swearing at the waffle maker.

“Stupid fucking thing,” you mutter, trying to open it.

Steve smiles to himself before saying, “Morning, angel.”

You jump at his voice, not having heard him walk in. When you turn around, your heart beats for a different reason.

Steve’s still only in his pajama pants, plaid and soft, hanging low on his hips. And he’s shirtless, his chest smattered with hair and his skin a little tanned from the sun. He’s got beauty marks all over, like a constellation you could chart, and his abs are just visible beneath the soft of his stomach. A trail of hair leading to the waistband of his pants and disappearing beneath them.

You’ve seen Steve shirtless plenty of times. Swimming and sleeping over in the summer, in high school when you used to go to his practices, but it hits you harder for some reason this time.

The way his hair is still a mess from sleep, his eyes a bit heavy. The way it feels to be greeting him in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. Intimate. Domestic.

You clear your throat and turn back around to pry the waffle maker open, revealing a slightly burnt but otherwise good-looking waffle. “I’m making breakfast. Coffee’s already in the pot, too.”

He walks over, his chest close to your back as he grabs a mug from the cabinet above you before heading over to pour himself a cup. He looks at the spread you’ve prepared, “Waffles, huh? What did I do to deserve all this?”

“Just wanted to do something nice for you,” you say as Steve walks over to lean against the counter next to you, his hip barely touching yours. “To thank you, in a way. For letting me stay and the dress and-”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop thanking me?” He says, though his voice is soft and still a bit rough from sleep. “I like having you around.”

“So you don’t want the waffles then?”

“Oh, I want the waffles. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything for me. It’s not some debt you’ll owe me, angel.”

“Want you to know I appreciate you is all,” you say, pouring a new scoop of batter into the waffle maker.

Steve, unsure of what exactly possesses him to do so, dips in and presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek, his lips a whisper away from your skin when he says, “I appreciate you, too.”

Then he pulls away and moves to set the table. Like it was natural.

And it was, in a way. How you moved around each other in the kitchen. You leaning out of the way when he needed to reach something you were blocking, him putting a hand on your lower back when he walked behind you so you knew he was there.

Your cheek still tingles from where he’d kissed it when you bring the plate of waffles to the table, your skin somehow even warmer under his gaze, like he’s still remembering exactly how it felt, too.

You sit in the chair beside Steve, not noticing the way he tugs it a bit closer to him with his foot before you sit down. Soon enough, both of you are digging in. Steve’s got more whipped cream on his plate than waffle (you tell him as much) and you’ve got your berries on the side the way you always do.

Neither of you work until later in the day, and it’s nice knowing that you can take your time. Steve tells you about the advice he gave Dustin about how to be ‘cooler’ in school (he’d told him that being cool is completely overrated, he knew from experience, and that being himself is the most important). You’d told him he was going soft with age.

You talk about anything at all. How Keith somehow manages both of your places of work, how he also somehow does both terribly. The way he says ‘if you have time to lean, you have time to clean’ while literally having Cheeto dust on his fingers. Laughing at each other’s impressions of him.

What the new highscores were at the arcade, what people were renting from Family Video.

You wonder what it’ll be like when you have to leave. When you’re living alone again.

Logically, you know you’ll still see Steve frequently, because he’s your favorite person and you can’t remember the last time you went longer than a few days without hanging out. Still, it’ll be different than right now, waking up in the same space and sharing breakfast and brushing your teeth side by side in the mirror.

You’ll miss it, you think.

Trying not to dwell on something that’s still a few weeks away, you take another bite of your waffle. Steve catches your chin and wipes off a bit of whipped cream from the corner of your mouth, then pulling away and sucking it off his thumb.

He goes back to his own plate without a thought. Like touching you just now was an instinct.

Then, he teases you, “These are a little crispy, angel. Maybe you should stick to letting me make breakfast in this household.”

You kick his leg under the table. “That’s a funny way of saying ‘thank you,’ Harrington.”

He kicks you back, much gentler than you’d been. “Thank you.”

“That’s what I thought.”

When you look at him, there’s an easy, boyish smile on his face.

A similar one stretches across your own lips.

-

Steve has had the thought pop up into his head a couple of times, that maybe he should’ve just asked you to live with him before you ever bought that apartment. Because having you around feels the most right things have ever felt in his house.

And though the circumstances of your moving in with him (temporarily, he has to remind himself), were far from ideal, he can’t lie and say that he isn’t glad that you’ve ended up sharing his space.

The room across the hall will always be yours, even when you move back to your place.

He knows that you feel indebted to him for all of it, but if anyone owes the other something, he feels like it’s him. For everything you’ve ever done for him. Sticking around even when he was an asshole in highschool, defending him to his parents whenever you’d cross paths, simply being the kind of friend he needed.

Even when you’re not around, he can picture your face, the way your smile spreads slowly until you’re fucking beaming. Worse, the way you cried into his chest that day at your apartment.

He remembers the crack in your voice when you spoke about that picture frame from summer camp. Though he hasn’t seen you cry since, or even bring it up, he’s decided he wants to fix it. He’d told you he would.

Dustin wound up roped into his plan: find a similar frame, decorate it the exact same way, and scour the photo albums in Steve’s room for his copy of that same picture.

When he was younger, the photo albums pissed him off, because they were purely for show. Pictures of his family that were all fake smiles. Now, he’s glad for them, because at least he has some good memories to look back on. To know it wasn’t always all bad.

Steve probably should’ve thought that one through, because when they looked through his albums, he was on the receiving end of relentless teasing from Dustin. (“Dude, you have an insane boogie in this picture.” “I was four!”)

He hopes it’ll be worth it.

Dustin was the one who found the picture they’d been looking for, and he cheered and waved it in Steve’s face as if they’d been racing.

Now, after driving Dustin back home, decorating the frame the way the two of you did as kids, trying to make his handwriting look like it did back then (which wasn’t too difficult, ‘cause Steve’s writing still isn’t that neat), he’s waiting for you to come downstairs before giving it to you.

He’d picked you up after your shift at the arcade not too long ago, but he knows you like to shower and change as soon as you get home from work, so he’d taken the opportunity to wrap the frame and have it ready for you.

Steve can hear you singing in the shower, and he knows you’re done when it goes quiet. A few minutes later you’re walking down the stairs in a baggy t-shirt and silky sleep shorts.

His eyes, for some reason, linger on your legs for a second.

He stands up, frame in his hand, when you walk over. “I have something for you.”

“Steve! Stop buying me things. Seriously.”

“This thing was free, so you can’t even be mad,” he says, smiling almost sheepishly.

Your eyes search his face, flickering between his own and dipping down to his lips and his nose and back to his eyes. He looks… nervous.

Steve’s never nervous around you.

“Okay,” you say, shuffling on your feet. “What is it?”

“Here,” he hands you the poorly-wrapped frame. “Open it.”

You scrunch your brows at him once, because you have no idea what it could be. It isn’t your birthday, or any sort of holiday at all. With zero guesses, you look down at the light yellow wrapping paper in your hands and slowly tear it open.

What you find makes your eyes grow misty, tears pooling at your lash line but not quite falling.

It’s your favorite picture, the one of you and Steve in those stupid neon shirts with messy hair and dirt on your hands. Only now, it’s not water damaged, and the frame is new, but decorated just like the old one. You run your thumbs over the glass lightly, smiling down at little you and little Steve.

When you look back up at him, he’s already looking at you, his brown eyes all warm, his smile kind but also worried, waiting for your reaction.

Seeing his face springs you into motion, jumping forward and wrapping your arms around his neck tightly with the frame still in your hand. “Thank you,” you say into his skin.

Steve’s arms move to hold you around your waist without a thought. A reflex. They squeeze you close to him, his nose pressed into your damp hair, smelling your shampoo.

“It’s not perfect,” he says. “But I know how much you love that picture, and I wanted to fix it.”

“Steve. Shut up. It is perfect.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he says, his thumbs running back and forth against your back.

You hug for what could’ve been minutes, but neither of you moves to pull away first. You’re not sure if it’s still considered friendly to stand in each other's arms, breathing each other in, for so long, but you don’t care at the moment.

This is probably the nicest thing anyone’s done for you in a long, long time.

When you finally do pull away, you don’t go far. Your arms stay slung over his shoulders, Steve’s hands framing your hips. His thumbs still dragging those sweet patterns against you.

“I’m keeping it forever,” you tell him.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Certain. You’ll always be my best friend, Steve.”

“You’ll always be mine too, angel.”

Then, your eyes both move to each other’s lips, yours flick back up in a second, startled at their wandering.

Steve, however, is a bit transfixed. He looks at the slope of your cupid’s bow, the way your lips are shiny from your lip balm. He thinks it quickly, like a gust of wind that can’t be stopped: I really wanna kiss her right now.

Fuck. He wants to kiss his best friend.

He blinks a few times, clearing his throat and pulling back, letting his hands fall from your waist as yours slide off his shoulders. He misses the feel of your touch immediately, but he’s too freaked out and confused to do anything about it.

“What are you in the mood for tonight?” he asks, cutting off his own thoughts. “I brought back a horror and a comedy. Take your pick.”

“Mmm,” he picks up two tapes from the coffee table and holds them up for you to choose from. “Horror. Unless you’re too scared?”

“You’ll just have to hold my hand, then, won’t you?”

“I guess I will.”

You look back at the picture while Steve puts the movie into the player. You smile at it every time you see it, because you can still see parts of Steve in him now that were in him then.

His eyes, always kind, the way he smiles when he laughs, and about a half hour into the movie, the way he holds your hand and squeezes it when he’s scared.

-

You’re having one of those nights. The kind where sleep seems to be fighting you.

You worked a closing shift at the arcade, which usually lasts until late considering how long you’re open plus all of the cleaning you have to do afterwards. Today was no different, and despite how much later you finish than him at Family Video, Steve waited and drove you home. He hung out in the arcade with you until close, actually.

You’d think that after such a long day, the second your head hit the pillow you’d be out and breathing steadily. Today, that is not the case. You fell asleep for maybe an hour before a nightmare woke you up. You can’t quite remember what happened, only that you’d been yelling for Steve and he wasn’t there.

Groaning quietly, you rub your eyes and toss the blankets away. You stand up and head down to the kitchen in the dark, hand trailing along the walls to make sure you don’t bump into anything.

Just as you’re pouring yourself a glass of water, you hear the shuffle of sleepy footsteps coming into the kitchen.

“Holy shit,” he says, walking over to grab a glass, one hand on his bare chest. “I thought you were a ghost or something just now.”

You shift out of the way to let him get some water just like you did, taking the second that he’s distracted to look at him. His hair a mess, wearing nothing but his boxers. You take a big sip from your glass.

“I feel like I should be offended right now,” you say, “if you think I look like a ghost.”

“Shut up,” he says, dragging out the second word. His voice being rough from sleep makes his words sound much warmer than they are. “My eyes aren’t awake yet. Nothing to do with you, angel.”

You shake your head, though there’s a soft smile on your face the way there always seems to be when you try to be annoyed with Steve. You tilt your head at him, asking, “Couldn’t sleep?”

He shakes his head. “Been tossing and turning. Just can’t get comfortable, then I got pissed ‘cause I couldn’t get comfortable and only made it worse.”

“You would get pissed at that. Probably slapped your pillow like it was at fault.”

He folds his lips inwards and blinks at you. Because he did smack his pillow and call it a dipshit. “Why do you know everything? Spying on me?”

“Hate to say it, but you’re getting predictable, Harrington.” You shrug, then move to put your now empty glass in the dishwasher. “I know you too well.”

He looks at you, your hair falling across your shoulders, your pajama shorts riding up a little as you bend down. The moonlight slipping through the window seems to hit you perfectly. Like a halo.

Fitting, he thinks. You’re his angel, after all.

“Yeah, you do,” he agrees. Then, “What about you? Why’re you up?”

“Nightmare. Been forever since I had one.”

“You okay?” he asks, trailing a knuckle over your shoulder, pushing your hair behind it.

“Yeah,” you say, skin tingling where he’d touched you. “I can't even remember most of it, but now my brain won’t let me sleep.”

Steve wishes he could’ve protected you from whatever haunted you in your sleep. It’s silly, he knows, to think he might be able to ward away anything that hurts you, but he wants to, nonetheless.

He thinks about how comfortable he is whenever you cuddle during movie night. Your head on his shoulder or his chest, his hand on your back or waist.

So, he blurts, “Why don’t you sleep over?”

You furrow your brows at him, “Um, I’ve been sleeping over. A couple of weeks now, actually.”

“No, I mean, like in my room with me,” he says, suddenly shy at the idea. He’s grateful for the darkness, because he can feel his cheeks warming up. “A proper sleepover.”

You’ve done it before. Shared a bed a bunch of times, but for some reason your heart jumps when he says it. Your stomach swirls as you say, maybe a little too quickly, “Okay.”

Steve’s eyes widen like he’s surprised, just for a split second, before a soft smile takes over his face. He holds out a hand for you to take, “C’mon.”

Soon enough, Steve’s lifting his navy bedspread for you, letting you slip into bed next to him. He stays further away at first, letting you settle and lay on your side the way he knows you always do.

You blame sleepiness—or, maybe, the lack thereof—for the way you reach behind you for his arm and tug him closer, draping it over your own waist.

He obliges, of course, his arm securing itself across your stomach, palm spread out and warm against your sleep shirt. His chest is only a breath away from your back, though he keeps his lower half a little more distanced.

His thumb runs circles over your shirt, once, twice, three times before stilling, his forehead pressing to the back of your neck.

“Goodnight, angel,” he says into your hair.

Your hand splays itself on top of his. “Night, Steve.”

And suddenly your eyes grow heavier, and sleep doesn’t feel like much of a battle anymore.

-

You wake up the most rested you’ve felt in a while. There’s warmth surrounding you, but not the uncomfortable kind. The kind that feels safe.

Somehow, you and Steve are even closer than you’d been when you fell asleep. His arm is still around your waist, his other outstretched and tucked beneath your head like a pillow. His chest is flush to your back, and you can feel it expand with every breath he takes.

Most differently of all, however, is the way his hips are snug against the curve of your butt. And you can feel him hard against you.

Your skin feels even warmer than before when you notice.

Steve hasn’t woken up yet, you don’t think, because the faintest snores are getting puffed out against your shoulder where his face is tucked. His hand on your stomach has worked its way beneath your shirt, though, and his fingertips press against your skin, like he’s fighting to keep you close.

As if you’d go anywhere even in your sleep.

His knee is tucked between your legs, and you’re quickly realizing that it’d be pretty impossible to get out of bed without him noticing. You’re completely tangled together, a knot of limbs somehow fitting together just right. Like two puzzle pieces.

In his sleep, Steve’s mouth presses against the back of your shoulder, and only when you involuntarily shiver at the contact, does he stir.

It takes Steve a bit to really wake up, mumbling words that don’t make sense, scrunching his eyes shut even further before blinking them open. He’s met with the sight of you right in front of him. Body curved perfectly against his.

“Steve? You awake?” you ask, checking.

“Mhm,” he hums.

Then, something that has his cheeks flushing pink, he registers the feeling of his boner pressed against your ass. He shuffles them back enough so there’s space between you. “Fuck. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say. Because he can’t control the way his body reacts while he’s asleep.

“I didn’t think-” he cuts himself off, because he’s not quite sure how to say I didn’t think about the whole morning wood factor or that I’d fucking plaster myself to you when I suggested a sleepover without sounding stupid. Instead, he just repeats, “I’m sorry.”

You twist yourself around to face him, sheets crumpling and twisting as you move. When you settle back onto the pillow and look at his face, at the redness on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, you squeeze his hand that’s now laying between you.

“It’s okay, really,” you say. “It’s, like, anatomy. You’re human, Steve.”

“I don’t want you to think I invited you to sleep in here for some pervy reason,” he says, scrunching his nose when he says it.

“I don’t think that at all,” you tell him. You squeeze his hand again. “We’ve shared a bed like, a hundred times by now. If anything I’m surprised this hasn’t happened already.”

“Oh my God,” he groans, shutting his eyes and pushing his face into the pillow.

“Steve,” you drag out his name, fighting a giggle at the way he’s acting. He’s got a reputation, after all, and how shy and embarrassed he seems to be doesn’t reflect the things you heard about him in high school. He’s changed a lot since then. “It’s seriously fine. We can pretend it never happened. Promise.”

Steve pulls his face from the pillow, eyes catching yours as his fingers squeeze yours back in appreciation. He lets his eyes wander a bit, at the messy bits of your hair around your face from sleeping, the marks in your cheek from the pillowcase, the way your sleep shirt has fallen off your shoulder.

He feels lucky to get to see you this way, right after you’ve woken up. Vulnerable, unguarded, beautiful.

It’s during this small stretch of silence that you realize how close your faces are now. You’re sharing a pillow, his nose not even an inch from yours. Shift forward the slightest bit, and they’d be touching. Your eyes trail down to his mouth, to the visible patch of chest hair and the freckles that dot his skin. He’s already looking right at you when your eyes flick back upwards.

You know Steve, could tell what he’s feeling just from the look on his face, but this is one you’ve never seen before. At least, not directed at you.

Steve moves first, his eyes a little darker than usual, shifting forward slightly, then looking at you. Daring you to make the next move.

“What if we didn’t forget about it?” he says. Quiet and scratchy.

You don’t have time to think before you move forward a bit, too. Your noses brush. “What would that mean?”

Steve doesn’t answer with words. Rather, he moves forward the final bit and brushes his lips against yours in a question mark of a kiss, giving you time to pull away.

You don’t.

Instead, the hand of yours that isn’t still holding his comes up to the back of his neck, gently encouraging him to do it again. His free hand tightens at your waist as he dips in a second time.

It isn’t as tentative now that you’ve urged him on. His lips meet yours more sure, more firm, but still soft against you. Neither of you cares one bit about morning breath, or about what this might change. As if the morning’s haze slows time, minds still a little sleepy.

You’re simply acting on instinct. And this feels too right to stop.

Soon enough it grows more heated, Steve shifting to hover over you, his elbows pushing into the mattress to hold himself up, his tongue sneaking out to lick against the seam of your lips for permission.

Just as you open up for him, the blaring sound of Steve's alarm cuts you off, pulling back with a gasp. He simply leans up on one arm and slams the snooze button—and you laugh, you laugh, at how hard he hits it—before diving back into you.

You feel hot all over, where one of Steve’s hands has moved to cup your jaw, his thumb running delicately against your face as his mouth moves against yours, practically devouring you. Where the blankets are still over your lower halves, trapping in heat. When he pulls back, looks into your eyes, fucking smiles all dopey and pretty, and then kisses you again.

It’s so good, you’re almost angry at yourself for not kissing him sooner.

You kiss until his alarm goes off again and Steve's forced to pry himself away from you, groaning about being on his ‘last tardy warning’ from Keith.

Still, he takes the time to kiss your forehead on his way out, Family Video vest slung over his shoulder, calling a sweet, “bye, angel,” on his way out. His hair’s still a mess from your fingers, and he doesn’t even seem to mind.

You stay in his bed longer than you probably should, blinking up at the ceiling, fingers pressed against your lips like you’re searching for physical proof that everything was real.

What the fuck just happened?

-

It’s been a couple of weeks, and Steve can’t stop thinking about that kiss. He doesn’t know it, but you can’t stop thinking about it either.

Neither of you have brought it up, and things have faded back to normal as if it had never happened. But you and Steve are both thinking the same things without knowing it. How good and natural and easy it felt, how, every now and then, you think about doing it again.

You talk and joke and watch movies and eat meals together the same way you always have, and it’d be so easy to stay that way, to never kiss again. But then, what if you could stay that way and kiss? Wouldn’t that be something close to perfect?

You lay awake thinking about it every few nights. Because, when you really reflect on your life and how intertwined it is with Steve’s, you realize that you’ve sort of always acted like a couple, minus the kissing and sex aspect. You go on what could easily be classified as dates—the movies, lunch or dinner—you cuddle on the couch almost nightly, and you’ve never shied away from physical touch with one another. Held hands, a palm on your back.

You haven’t brought it up with Steve because you haven’t even come to terms with it yourself. Feelings are so fucking confusing and messy and you’d like to have a better idea of what’s going on in your own head before asking him about his.

Meanwhile, Steve has allowed himself to come to terms with it. He’s in love with you.

He’s pretty sure he has been for a while. Months, maybe even years.

It hadn’t come easily, though. It was nights spent similarly to yours, running through interactions you’ve had and the way he felt that one time in senior year when you went on a date with some guy from your math class. Even then, a part of him felt wrong about it, that pit in his gut.

Then there were his shifts with Robin at Family Video where he’d practically spilled everything just to get her opinion. She looked up and sighed “thank you” before saying that it was nice of him to finally catch on.

Had he really been that obvious? All this time? And had he really been that oblivious to his own feelings?

Steve can’t answer those questions. He can’t say when his love for you changed from platonic to romantic, he just knows that it has and he doesn’t think he’ll ever come back from it.

You’re his best friend in the entire world, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, and he can’t picture himself loving anyone but you so wholly.

He’s fucking terrified of losing you, but he’s also terrified of never telling you how he feels and testing that what if.

So, like a desperate idiot, he knocks on the door to Eddie’s trailer.

Eddie opens it after a minute and what sounded like him stubbing his toe, “oh, hey Harrington. More weed?”

“No, shut up. I need your help.”

“You,” Eddie points at Steve, then at himself, “need my help for something? Are you ill?”

“Okay,” Steve, dramatic and bitchy as usual, sighs and mutters something about this being a stupid idea and turns to leave.

“Come on,” Eddie laughs, “I’m just joking. What’s up?”

Soon enough, Steve’s sitting on Eddie’s couch, Eddie pacing in front of the coffee table like this is a very serious matter, and telling him pretty much everything. Your kiss, the train of thought it sparked.

“Basically I’m in love with her and I have no clue what to do,” Steve finishes, sinking back into the couch cushions. It squeaks as he shifts.

Eddie pauses, tugging at his bottom lip between his fingers, then looks at Steve and says, “You know I’ve never dated anyone in my life, right?”

Steve groans into his hands, “Why do all of my friends have to be losers with no dating lives.”

Eddie ignores that, because he can tell how affected Steve actually is by all of this. How much he cares. He walks over and sits down on the opposite end of the couch. “Have you ever thought of, I don’t know, telling her how you feel?”

Steve rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and letting his head hang for a moment before picking it up. “Of course I have, but I’m fuckin’ scared.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Um, she could reject me and not feel the same way and everything would be awkward because I ruined it and I’d lose my best friend in the entire world.”

“What if she does feel the same?” Eddie asks.

He’s both yours and Steve’s friend, he’s been around the both of you together. He’s seen the way you look at each other. Eddie might not be an expert, but it’s always looked a lot like love to him. He’s pretty sure the chances of you feeling the same are quite high.

“What do you mean?”

“What if she does feel the same and you never figure it out because you’re too afraid?” Eddie says. “Man, don’t you think that risk is worth taking?”

Steve thinks about it, and as much as he hates to admit it, Eddie’s right. He’d hate to always wonder, to lose out on the chance to really be with you when he knows it could be so good.

You are worth the risk to him.

“When the fuck did you become so wise, Munson?”

“Dunno,” Eddie shrugs. “Wanna smoke?”

Steve laughs, “Yes I do.”

-

With Steve gone at work and you off for the day, there’s been too much room for your thoughts to creep in. Too much silence.

You’ve already been thinking about things so much. Thinking about him so much, that in his absence, your mind seemed to work overtime to fill in the gaps.

You thought about the day he picked you up from your apartment, how quick he was to drop whatever he’d been doing and come over and help you and take you home with him. The day he took you shopping and bought you a dress because he thought you looked pretty in it, the way his fingers fiddled with the strap on your shoulder when you tried it on for him.

The day he gifted you a remade version of your favorite picture from summer camp because he knew how much it meant to you, the way you held on to each other afterwards.

How you’d been waiting for him to get home that night he went to Eddie’s, just to make sure he was okay. How when he came in, he smiled at the sight of you curled on the couch, and he kissed your cheek when he walked by like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Your brain knew he was high, you could smell the weed mingling with his cologne on his clothes when he leaned in close, but your heart didn’t care about that. It thumped in your chest the second he leaned in closer, even worse when his lips touched your cheek.

The realization hits you now like a shock, a quick zip of electricity running through your system. You fucking love him.

Sure, you’ve loved Steve practically your whole life, but this was different. You love him, love him. Like, you want to kiss him when he comes home from work and in the morning. You want him to introduce you as his girlfriend and to be able to call him your boyfriend.

You feel stupid for not realizing it sooner, because looking back on things now, knowing how you feel, you can see it written throughout your entire friendship. Holding hands and kissing foreheads and hands pushing hair away from faces.

For a second, you’re purely happy, because you get to be in love with your best friend and it feels as warm and sweet as sunlight. Then, the fear creeps in, and you’re scared. Scared of losing him, of making things weird, of change and doing the wrong thing.

So scared that you start to panic and pack up some of your things in your bag like you’re running away.

Truthfully, you’re not sure what else to do. You’ve never been in love before, you’ve never known it this way—so kind and unconditional. And your parents sure as hell didn’t set a good example for you. They’d fight, and someone would leave with the slam of a door, and then they’d be back and the cycle would continue.

You’re scared and confused and your instincts are telling you to run away even though the only place you really wanna be is with Steve. In his arms.

You’re stuffing clothes into your bag just to keep your hands busy, breathing hard and fast, when you hear the front door open and close. Steve’s quick to find you, his eyes scanning your room and then looking at you. “What are you doing?”

You feel like you might cry just looking at him. His brown eyes worried but warm as always, his hands stuffed into his pockets like he’s nervous.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be home until later,” you say, hoping he can’t hear the shake in your voice.

“It was dead, so Keith let me off early. I-” Steve furrows his brows, “are you leaving?”

You nod. “I’ve been in your way long enough.”

“I told you, you’re never in my way.” Steve knows you, and he loves you, and he can tell that there’s something going on. That you’re panicked and trying to get away from whatever it is. He cares too much to let that happen. “I want you to stay.”

You want to stay, too. You just don’t know what comes next, and that unknown, the lack of control, of familiarity, it makes your hands shake.

Your mind doesn’t work the same when you’re afraid.

“Give me one good reason why I should stay, Steve. I’ve been taking up your space for weeks and-”

“Because I love you.” Steve cuts you off. He hadn’t planned on telling you this way, he wanted it to be romantic and perfect but he can’t wait any longer. Especially not when you’re trying to run away. “I’m in love with you. And I want you here.”

You immediately stop in your tracks, blinking up at him like you’re not sure you’d heard him correctly. “You- what?”

“I love you. Romantically. And I think I have for a really long time.”

“You’re not high again, are you?” You ask, your eyes a little misty.

Steve walks over to you and grabs both of your hands in his, making sure you’re looking at him, at the sincerity written all over his face, when he says, “Completely sober. I fucking love you and I want you to keep living with me, because this house doesn’t really feel like home unless you’re in it.”

“What about when my apartment is ready?”

He squeezes your hands. “Stay then, too. Stay forever.”

You look up at him, his hair falling over his forehead, his eyes so honest, a tentative smile on his mouth. The only boy you’ve ever loved.

You feel silly for trying to escape this when this is how it’s turning out. Steve had been brave just now, telling you he loves you and he wants you to stay, so you decide to be brave, too.

It’s easier than you thought it would be to say: “I love you, too, Steve. I feel the same. I only just realized it and freaked out. I’m so scared of losing you, is all.”

“You won’t. Not ever.”

You tip your chin up to kiss him after he says it, because you can. You pour your feelings into it, and Steve returns your kiss as if it’s one he’s known for years. It’s slow, and deep, and sweet, and so full of love you’re practically overflowing with it.

The two of you only pull away when you need a breather. Steve doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours.

“So what happens now?” You ask.

“Well, we’ve been acting like a couple for a while, I think, so we stay the same. Mostly. Except now I get to call you my girlfriend-”

“Um, I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to ask me first.”

He lets go of one of your hands and pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckle running lovingly across your cheek. “My angel girl, will you be my girlfriend?”

Your grin is wide and lovesick and cheesy and you don’t care one bit. “Yeah, yes I will. Boyfriend.”

“And, being your boyfriend means I get to do this.”

He kisses you once more. And you don’t ever want to not be kissing him again.

𝜗𝜚

thank you guys so much for reading!!! it would mean a whole bunch if you would consider leaving a comment or a reblog and letting me know what you think!! it helps more than you know <3

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

Hello, your neighborhood Darry Curtis angst truther here. I would love to see what kind of Darry angst your magical brain can cook up, but I am partial to a sickfic. I can’t wait to read what you come up with!

oh I LOVE this!! Sick darry rots in my brain NON stop LOVE LOVE this ask!! fic under the cut!! TYSM FOR THE ASK!!

cw!! vomiting (nothing graphic!!)

Darry didn't get sick. He just didn't. He would defy the laws of nature and manage to avoid it in the middle of January takin' care of both Pony 'n Soda who'd managed to get strep and flu respectfully. He'd dodge it when Two took up a permanent residence in his bed with the stomach bug for a week. He'd come out without a scratch when both Dallas 'n Steve had the common cold 'n acted like they were goin' to have to be put down come dawn.

Pony 'n Soda claimed that Darry managed to stay healthy as a horse all year long on pure stubbornness. Darry had told them that if that was the case, Pony would never have caught so much as a cough.

Yes, Darry Curtis had a track record to uphold. A record he was currently watchin' slip straight through his fingers.

"G'mornin' Dar," Soda's already in the kitchen when Darry walks in, a bad sign. Darry can't remember the last time Soda had gotten ready before anyone. The second he claps his eyes on Darry his brows knit in concern. "You ok?"

"'Mornin', honey. I'm fine." He has to be. He ruffles Soda's hair 'n tries to walk past him, he can hear the sound of an egg burnin' on the pan 'n he's really not in the mood to have to scrape it off. The smell makes his stomach do a sudden, violent lurch. Soda easily blocks him, noddin' for Dallas, who leans over 'n takes the pan off from where he's sittin' in the window sill. "C'mon, kid."

"Somethin's wrong." Soda reaches up to put his palm on Darry's forehead 'n Darry easily bats him away.

"I just slept bad, I'm fine." To be fair, that was the truth. Or at least partly. Dallas had rolled in past three in the mornin' from a shift with the ponys at Buck's 'n climbed straight into Darry's bed, wreakin' like a stable 'n twice as cold. When he had tried to kick the kid out he had fought, literally, tooth 'n nail. Somethin' about Soda not bein' warm 'n Pony not sharin' the blanket. Never you mind it was the spittin' middle of summer. Darry had conceded, if only for the chance to go back to bed. The culprit glanced over his shoulder 'n grinned 'n Darry narrowed his eyes at him.

"Well... alright." Soda reluctantly moves out of the way 'n Darry squeezes his shoulder, grabbin' a piece of dry toast from the counter 'n movin' to put his shoes on. "Are you 'n Steve walkin' to the DX or d'you need a ride?" Steve 'n Soda's love child of a beater had recently done the only thing it did well, stop workin'. Again. Steve swore this time it was just the muffler. Easy fix. Last time he'd said that their car had sat on Darry's lawn for a week.

"We'll walk- wait you gotta have some breakfast." Soda stubbornly moves to cut him off again 'n Darry chuckles fondly, easily manhandlin' him out of the way.

"I'm gonna be late kiddo." He holds the toast in his mouth 'n steps into his work boots. "Hey, one of you make sure Pony gets up before you leave or else I swear he'll sleep all day." Darry shoves aside the feelin' in his gut, half premonition, half sickness.

"I'll get him up later." Dallas climbs off the counter 'n both him 'n Soda share a look. "You sure you're good, man?"

"Glory, you two really know how to make a man feel better." Darry rolls his eyes but gives them both a grin. "I'll be fine. Now, I'll be 'round to pick up you 'n Steve after work, 'n Dally, you're on dishes." Dallas scowled but didn't complain which wasn't much of a comfort. Darry must look bad if Dallas wouldn't kick up a fuss.

He was fine. He'd be fine.

God knows what they would do it he wasn't.

...

Darry was home by noon. Apparently, they don't take kindly to you vomitin' up breakfast at the construction site. He'd begged to be able to stay but his boss had stood firm on it. He was a real good man, had worked with his father, 'n had offered him the afternoon paid time off.

He'd barely gotten home. It was like all at once his body had just decided to quit workin'. His legs fell like jelly as he climbs out of the truck, white knucklin' the railin' to get up the steps.

"Pone?" He calls when the door swings open 'n is greeted with nothin' but the vague smell of burnt eggs. He instantly ducks into the kitchen 'n brings up bile. Well. Shit.

He reaches over 'n slides the window open, hopin' to circulate some air into the house. Only the sticky, tempid dry heat of Tusla summers trails through the screen. Darry sinks down to the basin, restin' his hot forehead against the cold metal.

Alright. Up. The house is, mercifully, empty 'n Darry makes quick work of shruggin' off his shoes, shirt, 'n work belt. He trudges down the hall 'n ducks into the relative darkness of his room. He's asleep before he realizes it, passed out on the bed with his Levi's still on.

...

"Darry?" Darry wakes up with a migraine, head swimmin'. Soda's voice calls from somewhere in the house 'n it's got a shrill high note of panic in it. Darry glances to the end table 'n has to shake his head three times before he processes the time. Six in the afternoon. Shit.

Darry sits up too fast 'n the world spins around him. No. No no no. He couldn't do this. The door to his bedroom bangs open 'n Soda appears in the doorway, face flushed, hair stickin' in every direction. Steve hovers behind him lookin' just as stricken.

"Oh, fuck. Dar you don't look good." Soda sits down on the bed 'n pushes Darry's hair off his sweaty forehead in a way oddly reminiscent of how Darry often did to him. He tries to grin, sits up a little taller, shakes Soda off 'n doesn't even grimace when just that makes his head damn near split. Soda doesn't fall for it one bit. "Darry you lay back down. Steve go get some soup from the cabinet, I know you haven't eaten anythin'." Soda shoots him a determined look 'n nods to himself when Darry doesn't protest. Steve spares him one more worried frown 'n disappears back down the hall.

"I'm fine Soda." Which is just about the biggest lie he's ever told.

"No, you're not." Soda leans over 'n presses on Darry's shoulder to make him lie down. He pretends it doesn't scare him how little force it takes. "You would never have forgotten to pick up me 'n Steve if somethin' wasn't wrong. 'N you definitely wouldn't be home early. Now, hush." Darry glances at him guiltily but now that he's layin' back down he can barely hold his eyes open.

"'M sorry, kiddo." Soda squeezes his shoulder 'n drops a kiss to his hot forehead.

"It's alright, Dar. Let me take care of you for once." And he thinks he says somethin' but, truthfully, he's asleep before he can be sure.

...

The next time he wakes up the sun is low outside his window, the shadows stretchin' long across the floor. He feels worse. Somehow. His body aches like he's been hit by a truck. His throat is sore 'n raw 'n he can feel the barely stagnant nausea in his stomach. When he turns his head the migraine flares to life along the edges of his vision.

"Darry?" Darry squeezes his eyes shut, the low voice soundin' like a gunshot in the silence. He blinks blearily, lifts his head 'n searches for the voice's owner.

"Pone?" The armchair from the living room has been drug into the corner of his bedroom 'n Pony is curled up in it. Darry can hear the sounds of Soda, Steve, 'n Dallas all in the kitchen down the hall 'n he grimaces.

"Yeah, Darry it's me." Shit. Pony shouldn't be in here. He can't afford the kid gettin' sick. Or seein' him like this. He's not supposed to be fallible. Glory, he doesn't have it in him to look strong right now. So he's gotta get the kid out.

"Your brother know you're in here?" Pony worries his lip between his teeth.

"No, he didn't want me to bug you but... I didn't want you to be alone." Glory, the kid could be a thorn in his side sometimes. But then he'd turn around 'n say somethin' like that 'n Darry really didn't know what he'd done in his life to end up with such good kid brothers.

"C'mere, Ponybaby." Darry shifts over, bites back on his wince, 'n Pony immediately curls up in the crook of his arm. Darry strokes his hair gently 'n Pony clutches Darry's side like if he can't hold on to him he'll vanish. The heat of Pony's body is nearly unbearable against Darry's fever-ridden sickness but Darry'll be damned if he's not gonna give his kid brother whatever comfort he can right now.

Darry's just startin' to drift again when the door eases open, the light from the hall nearly makin' him wretch. Soda slips in 'n eases the door shut behind him, a bowl of soup steamin' in his hands. The smell makes Darry's stomach churn.

"Ponyboy Curtis, didn't I tell you to let Darry sleep?" But he doesn't sound mad at all.

"C'mon Soda," Pony tucks himself tighter into the crook of Darry's elbow 'n Darry squeezes Pony reassuringly.

"Pony, mind your brother. I'll be fine." He gives Pony a gentle shove 'n Pony slides reluctantly off the bed 'n to Soda's side. Soda drops a kiss to his head 'n Pony slips out into the hall with a single worried glance back.

"How ya feelin', Dar?" Soda plops down on the bed, settin' the soup down on the end table 'n handin' Darry a glass of water.

"I'm-"

"If you say fine I'm gonna call you a liar." Soda wags a finger 'n Darry scoffs, flinches.

"I've had better days." Darry takes a small sip of the water, it feels like acid down his dry throat.

"You don't say?" Soda chuckles under his breath 'n takes the glass back, swappin' it with the soup 'n fixin' him with a look when he grimaces. "You gotta try to eat somethin', Dar."

Darry holds the bowl in his lap 'n takes a long steadin' breath. He doesn't want to. Honest. But he's spent too many mornin', noon, 'n nights fightin' with sick kids to know better than to refuse. He wasn't gonna make this any more stressful on Soda than it already was. "You know, Pepsi, you're pretty damn good at this older brother thing."

Soda folds his legs up crisis-cross under him 'n smiles ruefully. "I'll be happier when I can hand the position back over."

Darry chuckles 'n reaches out ruffles his hair. "Sorry, kiddo."

"For what? If you're apologizin' for gettin' sick I'm gonna make you eat the casserole I made for dinner instead of Steve's Campbell." Soda shoots him a stern glare he can't quite hold.

"Apologizin'? Who's apologizin'? I was feelin' sorry for myself." Soda howls his laugh 'n Darry has missed hearin' it so bad he manages to completely ignore the way his migraine fuzzes around his temples.

"Alright, mister, no more stallin'. Eat." Darry manages two bites in ten minutes. Then he vomits both it 'n the water back up.

"Dar..." Soda rubs his back 'n Darry bites his lip hard. He wants to bawl. He won't do that to Soda. "I think we're gonna hafta call a doc."

"Look, give me another day. I'm not gonna drain our entire fund for some stupid cold, ok? I'll be alright. Give me another day." He somehow finds it in him to sound more assured then he feels.

"Oook." Soda doesn't look confident at all as he takes the bowl off the end of the bed, most of the can still remainin'. "But, Dar?" He pauses until Darry looks back up at him.

"What is it, Pepsi?"

"We'd make it happen. It ain't a drain if it means we can fix you up."

"Alright, kiddo." 'N they both know he doesn't believe it. "Now get your ass outta here before you get sick too."

Soda offers only a wobbly version of his usual grin as he pulls the door back open. "Hey now, I ain't ready to hand over that in charge title yet, young man."

...

"Darry? Darry, c'mon man." Darry wakes to rough hands shakin' him 'n immediately knows it's not Pony or Soda.

"Dar, you're scarin' me, c'mon." The second Darry opens his eyes the hands drop him. Dallas sits back, eyes wild, hair fallin' in his face, hands clenchin' 'n unclenchin' on his knees.

Darry blinks hard, realizes three things at the same time. His heart is beatin' so hard he can hear the blood as it rushes in his ears. There's a name on his lips. Somethin' startin' with an M he knows before he has to ask. His throat is sore, 'n not from all the hackin' he's been doin'. The kind you get from screamin'.

He opens his mouth to answer 'n immediately brings up the contents of his stomach into the bucket Soda had left when he brought dinner. Dallas flies to his side, bony hand restin' on Darry's back. "Shit, Darry."

Darry squeezes his eyes shut, groans. The second he stops feelin' like heavin' around nothin' he sits back 'n refocuses on Dallas. "Shit, kid. I'm sorry. Are you ok?"

"Am I? Dar, I was worried about you, man. I'm fine." But he's still got a flash in his eyes Darry knows, the restless way his spins his ring around his finger. He opens one arm 'n Dallas hesitates before slidin' over 'n droppin' his head down to Darry's shoulder.

"Was I havin'... a nightmare?" He doesn't need to ask. He knows. They run in the family. Darry was just better at keepin' 'em locked down.

"Yeah, man. You were, uh, callin' for Mrs. C." He had figured. He lets out a long breath 'n rests his head down on Dallas', their temples together.

"You sure you're alright, kid?" Dallas presses his elbow against Darry's ribs 'n Darry does them both a favor 'n pulls him flush against his side.

"Yeah, man, I'm sure." They're quiet for a few moments. They don't need to say anythin'. "I'm glad Soda's asleep. Pony wanted to sleep in here but I told him no way, man, that kid's annoyin' when he's not sick."

Darry chuckles 'n lays back down. Dallas flips around a few times before settlin'. He's got the minimum amount of contact with space to have none. Darry lets out a huff of a laugh. He gets the touch thing from Pony, no contest.

"Thanks for wakin' me up, kid."

"Yeah, well, don't mention it. You were thrashin' around 'n takin' up my whole side of the bed 'n shit so I kinda had to." Darry laughs again 'n doesn't mention Dallas' doin' what he does best: pretendin' everythin' is ok. His migraine flares so bad he feels like his skull might just crack in half to remind him that's not the case.

"Dal, I don't want you catchin' this. Why don't you go elbow over Soda tonight?" When he twists to look at Darry he's got that look in his ice-chip eyes that tell Darry arguin' is pointless. He may not have gotten his stubbornness from the Curtis' but he damn well fit right in.

"Don't mention it."

...

Darry has his feet on the floor before he can fully process anythin'. He blinks his eyes, rubs at them blearily. Lets out a sigh when his stomach turns over. He's gettin' real sick of the wakin' up 'n driftin' off thing. Mostly 'cause every time he was up he expects to feel better 'n that is never the case.

He glances at the clock at his bedside. A little before six. Like clockwork. Darry never needed to set alarms. He just woke up when he was meant to. Pony had complained about that for years. 'N Darry, in turn, had complained about his obnoxious alarm clocks.

It takes a moment for him to realize he's suddenly ravenous. He's so goddamn relieved he could cry.

Dallas is gone but that's to be expected. Dallas was an oddly early riser. He would go to sleep at two 'n still wake up before Darry. Darry creeps into the kitchen 'n finds Dallas where he always is, curled up in the window sill. He also finds Soda, awake again.

"Hey lil' buddy, what are you doin' awake?" Soda whips around, still half asleep. He looks so soothed for a moment, the stress fallin' out of his shoulders. Then he gets a good look at Darry.

"What are you doin' out of bed?" Soda shrugs his DX shirt around on his shoulders, takes the coffee Dallas offers him.

"I've gotta go to work, kiddo. I'm feelin' better." Darry grins, holds his head stiffly 'n walks around the side of the table. Dallas jumps off the counter 'n, between the two of them, manage corner him.

"Nuh uh, no siree. I let you go to work yesterday 'n look where that got you." Darry sighs, lets Soda manhandle him down into a chair like just standin' too much could make him keel over 'n die. Darry won't admit he might be right.

"Soda, I love you. We can't afford this." Soda shoots Dallas a look Darry can't read. And that unsettles him.

"Don't worry, Dar. We got it covered. Plus, Soda already called you in sick so it's too late now." Dallas turns around 'n slides an egg that is somehow both over 'n underdone across the table. So Soda cooked. Darry snakes a hand out 'n snatches both of their wrists. Dallas jumps a lil' but neither look particularly surprised.

"This 'Got it covered' shit legal?" He fixes them both with the sternest look he can manage. His appetite is slippin' away from him again 'n he hates to admit it but Soda's probably right. Another look between the two of them 'n Darry gives them a shake.

"Look, Dar. Don't worry about it." Darry lets out an exasperated sigh 'n Dallas rolls his eyes. "Yes, it's legal. Soda 'n I are just pickin' up extra shifts, ok? Glory, you wouldn't let God have his second comin' without callin' you first."

Darry lets out a sigh of relief 'n chuckles. "Since when did you get religious, Dallas Winston?"

"Since the Devil thought it'd be funny to dump me in the middle of Tusla, Oklahoma with you bunch." Dallas scuffs his foot on the tile 'n Darry's laughs become a hackin' cough. Soda 'n Dallas glance at each other again.

"Look, you two, I appreciate it. But I'm not gonna make you work extra to pick up my slack. I'll just call back. I can go in." Soda sighs 'n sinks down into the chair across from his brother.

"Darry, just let us do this, alright?" He fiddles with his shirt, the mug, a curl of his bangs. "You do enough, Dar. Let us just do this."

No, he thinks, I never do enough.

Darry looks his kid brothers over again. Feels that familiar kick that he will never deserve this. "Fine." He swallows bile as it rises up his throat. "Fine. I'll stay home."

"And you won't do any housework- or anythin' Pony wants." Soda bounces back instantly waggin' his finger 'n grinnin', but that's how Soda's always been. "I better come back to this house a disaster!"

"Yessir." Darry throws his hands up, hesitantly tries for the eggs again.

"Steve's comin' in after school so if you need anythin' call Two, OK?" Darry nods again 'n Soda grins 'n pours him a glass of water.

"I'm gonna let Pony know we're headed out." Dallas disappears down the hall 'n Darry can hear him pokin' at the kid 'n when that doesn't work, drag the kid out of bed. In the literal fashion.

"OW!"

"Are the eggs ok? I cooked 'em." Darry goes for the least runny bite he can get.

"Great, kiddo. Thank you." He snaps Soda up 'n drops a kiss to his messy hair.

"-'n if I hear about you bein' a brat I swear to God-"

"Pony'll be stayin' here. I tried to get him to go but..." Soda trails off 'n they both hear the distinctive sound of two bodies hittin' the floor.

"I don't want him here on my account. He's not skippin' school if he ain't sick." Darry swallows his bite 'n bile crawls up his throat immediately. Soda watches him carefully.

"Well, if you wanna fight with the kid I won't get in you're way. But, uh, well you know how Pony is." He did. His migraine burns along the back of his head. Please Pony, he feels a little guilty but it doesn't stop him from thinkin', don't be yourself.

Dallas 'n Pony appear in the kitchen again, both tousel-headed 'n scowlin'. The second Pony lays eyes on Darry, however, he lets out a soft little noise of relief 'n throws himself into Darry's arms.

"Hey, kid." Darry runs a hand through his hair 'n pulls him into his lap.

"Dar, you're ok." He tucks his head under Darry's chin 'n Darry smiles. Maybe he should get sick more often.

"Well, don't be too happy. I'm gonna tell you somethin' you're not gonna like 'n I'm not fightin' on it." Pont leans back, furrows his brows.

"Ok?"

"You're goin' to school today. I'm not gonna have you skippin' for my sake. I'll be fine alone, Pone." Pony's face scrunches up into a scowl again.

"But-" Dallas clears his throat 'n Pony snaps his mouth shut. "Fine." He clambers away from Darry 'n back out into the hall, not quite managin' to avoid the whack to the back of the head Dallas sends him with a smirk.

"Glory, you 'n Soda run a tight ship, huh?" Dallas grins, shrugs on his jacket.

"Well, can't have the kid turnin' into a knucklehead 'cause you have to call out of havin' a stick up your ass for one day." Pony 'n Darry let out twin noises of indignation, Pony's comin' from somewhere around the corner. Soda 'n Dallas both howl.

"Watch it, you two. Once I get better I'm gonna have to beat your fool heads in." Darry rests his head on his hand, proppin' his elbow on the table. Glory, why did bein' sick make him so damn tired?

"Have to catch us first!" Soda splits into a toothy smile 'n slips out the screen door, snappin' the keys off the counter. "Don't you dare do nothin'- remember!"

"C'mon Pony! Leave now or walk!" Dallas shouts into the hall 'n Pony comes flyin' back out with his bag. He only stops long enough for Darry to press a kiss to his temple. Dallas kicks him in the ass 'n Pony turns back around to sock him in the ribs.

"Get better, Dar!"

"Yeah, 'n call Buck's if you need me." Darry rolls his eyes 'n follows them to the door, shuttin' it behind them.

"Somehow I'll manage. Glory, y'all have become frettin' hens!" Soda cracks up, squawks 'n flaps his hands. Pony shakes his head but can't hide his grin. "Love y'all."

"Love ya, Dar!"

"Yeah, man."

"Get better, Darry!"

The truck pulls out of the drive too fast 'n zips down the street. The second it vanishes around the corner exhaustion hits Darry again. He ducks back inside 'n is in bed before the sound of Soda gunnin' the engine is too far to hear.

...

The smell of dinner wakes Darry up. When his stomach flips it has nothin' to do with sickness. God, it smells good.

He kicks the blanket off 'n almost cries when he isn't swelterin' or shiverin'. When he gets to his feet his head doesn't swim. Glory, it doesn't even hurt. Heavensake, he'd forgotten how good it felt to not have a headache.

He eases the door open 'n the sound of an Elvis record they've nearly burned through skips on the player. It scratches 'n Darry can hear Steve 'n Dallas goin' back 'n forth over the new Hollies single or the Yard Birds. Dallas wins out 'n The Hollies drifts down the hall.

Darry pokes his head into the kitchen 'n Soda stops jabbin' at Two who was fixin' somethin' at the stove. He takes Darry in from head to toe 'n then grins wide. He looks exhausted but also younger than he has since the moment he came home to Darry 'n his bug.

Pony glances up from where he's workin' at his math homework 'n splits into a big smile.

"Dar!" He shoots out of his chair so fast he nearly knocks it over. Dallas 'n Steve duck into the kitchen from the living room both lookin' suddenly, jarringly relieved. Pony throws his arms around Darry 'n Darry pulls Soda into the hug.

"You feelin' better, Superman?" The smell of gasoline clings to both Steve 'n Soda. Horses to Dallas'. Pony's homework it half done. No one coercin' him. The meal Two's pullin' out of the oven had taken at least an hour of prep work. Darry knows from experience. 'N they're all lookin' at him.

"Yeah, you know? I am."

[bucksangel]

sugar and cream

pairing: alpha!steve x artist!omega!reader x alpha!bucky (poly) - omegaverse!au pt. 4

word count: 10.6k (i’m sorry😭)

summary: The second thing you notice is the bench seat by the living room window having been cleared off, leaving only a few pillows and a variety of Bucky and Steve's clothes. You're drawn to it like a moth to a flame, the potent scent of your Alphas clinging to their shirts pulling you in until you can reach out and run your fingers over the red Henley on top. "We, um - We thought you could have a nest... here."

or - you finally mate with your Alphas.

warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! the amount of fluff in here is unbearable, this is also very smutty, threesome (mmf), knotting, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving and also kinda m receiving), cum swallowing, praise kink galore, consent is sexy, cockwarming, mentions of bonding, mentions of m/m sex, dirty talk, omegaverse, omega is shy and inexperienced, stucky are extremely careful and loving, a slight amount of angst (bucky is insecure about his arm/scars), basically everyone is nervous, switching povs

a/n: part 4 is finally here!!! i want to continue this au so if anyone has any suggestions as to what to write then lmk!! beta’d by the ever lovely @perdidosbucky-yyo and @fandoms-writings <3 and, as always, this is dedicated to my heart and soul: @buckysbarne

milk and honey masterlist | main masterlist | tip jar | ao3

After days of not seeing your Alphas or having much contact with them, it sends a rush of adrenaline straight to your veins when Bucky texts you that they've finally made it home. Over the few months Bucky and Steve have been courting you, they've only gone on a handful of missions, and most only lasted a day or so with only one of them being gone, so you always had one of your Alphas by your side.

This is the first time they've both been gone for almost four days, and while that isn't that long in the grand scheme of things, you've been anxiously waiting for any communication from them that they're safe. And now that you know they are, you can't remember ever being so excited for something. You want to see them, to check them over and make sure their bruises and cuts are taken care of - even though you know they've already gone to the medical wing of the Tower to get everything taken care of.

It's also extremely nerve wracking because tonight is the night. The night you'll finally mate with Bucky and Steve and show them how much you love them with your body and soul. You haven't been with many Alphas, but you've watched a fair amount of porn with men that may or may not resemble yours in preparation for tonight. It was a little... embarrassing at first; you didn't even know what to search for. But the more videos you watch and accounts from other Omegas about their experiences with being with two Alphas you read, you'd like to think that you're ready.

Truthfully, you've been ready for tonight, even before they asked if you were. You've never wanted to give yourself over to anyone more than these men because you know they'll treat you right, they'll take care of you.

So, even though your skin is buzzing with anxiety, you don't dare and try to talk yourself out of grabbing your bags and jumping in your car. Your face almost hurts from how wide your smile is, the happiness at finally seeing your boys combined with tonight's events causing you to let out a little shriek. You can't contain your emotions right now, not that you want to, Steve and Bucky are very vocal about how they love that you've come out of your shell the longer you've been with them.

Just as you're parking, your phone dings with a text from your friend, Tori.

Have fun, be safe, and call me if you need me <3

Two seconds later, another text comes through.

And tell them that they better treat you right or else I'll come for them :)

Rolling your eyes, you quickly type back a response.

Thank you, babe. I'll let them know and call you if I need anything, ily <3

You don't bother waiting for a response before you grab your bags from the passenger seat and climb out of the car. You suppose you should feel anxious walking up their porch, but any and all worries immediately dissipate as soon as you reach the front door, to which it promptly swings open. Bucky is standing there, a wide smile stretched across his face, and a flush on his cheeks.

"Honey," He says, though it's more of a breathy whisper. His eyes sparkle, and you can't stop yourself from ducking your head and nervously giggling, making sure to hold your bag tight so as not to drop it. "Here, let me take that."

You hand him your overnight bags, to which he takes them in one hand and grabs your hand with his other to guide you into the house. It's decorated a little differently than how it looked when you were last here. The first thing you notice is the new large fluffy blanket folded and thrown over the back of the couch, enticing you to collapse onto it and wrap yourself in the fabric.

The second thing you notice is the bench seat by the living room window having been cleared off, leaving only a few pillows and a variety of Bucky and Steve's clothes. You're drawn to it like a moth to a flame, the potent scent of your Alphas clinging to their shirts pulling you in until you can reach out and run your fingers over the red Henley on top.

"We, um - We thought you could have a nest... here." Bucky's nervous voice makes you turn your head to look at him. Steve has come to stand beside him, lacing his fingers through his mates', and smiles at you with such fondness that it makes you want to drag them to their room right then.

-

"We thought you could have a nest... here." Saying it out loud is a little scary, but Bucky and Steve want you to know that you're welcome here, that they want you here any time you want to be here - which they can only hope is all the time.

And Bucky feels like he's floating on clouds when you smile at them, then take the Henley and bring it up to your nose. Your sweetened scent permeates the living room, and Bucky thinks he can make out the hint of a grin behind his shirt.

"Thank you, Alphas," You say when you lay the shirt back down, and Bucky is suddenly pulled back down to earth the closer you walk toward them, placing one of your hands on his cheek and grabbing Steve's hand with your other. "I - I'd love that."

If it weren't for the flush on your cheeks and the sparkle in your eyes, Bucky would've thought your micro stutter meant the opposite of what you said. But, as it is, he can't find it in himself to doubt you when you step up onto your tiptoes and place a lingering and loving kiss on his lips. And, after days of not seeing you, Bucky feels like he can finally relax and let out a big sigh of relief at knowing that he's surrounded by both of his loves.

Bucky's been on edge for the entire mission - not like Steve fared much better; they were both worried about not being able to keep contact with you. They absolutely know you can take care of yourself, but after months of doting on you and having you love them in return, they got used to it. Even if you didn't see each other every day, they never went long without texting or calling you, so it made both his and Steve's skin crawl at the circumstances.

But now they're back, and both men know that you are what makes their small brownstone a home, which is why they were even more excited to return.

Your kiss grounds him, the glide of your lips against his causing him to sigh into your mouth, and he can't stop himself from licking and then nipping at your bottom lip, desperate to hear that little squeak you let you whenever they give you things or do something that you like.

You'd all kissed before, including a few heavy petting sessions, but nothing further. They respect your boundaries and comfortability, and they'd hate themselves if they were the ones to hurt you like that. But, at their core, they're Alphas, and neither man can deny the rush of adrenaline whenever they're able to bring you even the smallest amount of pleasure.

The kiss comes to an end far too soon for Bucky's liking, but there's something inside him that loves seeing you and Steve together, so he pulls back, trying desperately to not feel bad when you whine and chase his lips.

"Why don't you give ol' Stevie a kiss too," Bucky murmurs against your mouth, smiling slightly when you suck in a breath and nod, your eyes glazing over a little. The look is mesmerizing, and he's anxious to see just how sweet you'll be for them.

When Bucky looks over to his Alpha, he sees the poorly disguised eagerness written all over his face, his puppy dog eyes shining. The brunette cups the back of your head, then disentangles his hand from Steve's so he can do the same to him, then guides your heads closer to each other until your lips are touching.

The kiss is easy and light, a few simple pecks, until they're both surprised by your boldness when you press your body into his and angle your head so that Steve is able to kiss you properly. He can see a peek of tongue slowly prompting you to open your mouth, then licking into it.

And Bucky can tell neither of you know, but your combined scents of arousal are emanating throughout the room and probably filling the entire house. He can feel his cock filling up in his jeans, twitching to life the longer the show goes on until he can't ignore it anymore, having to secretly reach down and grab his crotch to relieve the ache. Even without your mixed scents, he knows both of you are feeling it too by the little whines and gasps.

They'd planned on taking time to settle you into their house, take you on a tour of the rooms you hadn't seen before, maybe let you set up your nest by the window. But he doesn't want to wait; he's too nervous in the best way possible to worship you.

So, he saddles up behind you, wrapping one arm around your waist and resting it on your stomach, then places his other hand on Steve's waist. His movements knock both of you out of your trance, both of you pulling back with gasps and reddened lips, a bright blush covering Steve's cheeks.

"Sorry," Steve says breathlessly, chuckling a little when he realizes he got a little lost in the kiss.

"Don't be, Alpha," Bucky responds, leaning over your shoulder to peck Steve's lips. You whine at the sight, subconsciously squirming between their bodies.

"Alphas." Both Alphas groan, looking down at you with hooded eyes. "I - I'm..."

"Yes?" Steve asks when you don't continue, smiling when you nervously chuckle.

"I'm ready."

-

"I'm ready." You mean it with everything you have; you're ready to make love with them, to join your bodies, and show them that you trust them, that you love them.

Steve curses softly, gripping your hips as though he's restraining himself from throwing you over his shoulder. He doesn't; he actually puts one arm around your waist and loops his other arm under your knees and swiftly picks you up, carrying you bridal-style and smirking when you squeak.

No one says anything while you all head toward their room, a place you've never been. It makes you nervous, but you know without a doubt that you want this, you want to push through those nerves because you're even more anxious to really be with them.

Steve sets you down on your feet when they reach the end of their bed, letting you get a good look at how they live. Their room is spacious; a large bed with multiple pillows, a window with another bench seat, and a bookshelf that you just know is filled with Bucky's fantasy novels. You're smiling as you turn to look at everything, but your smile grows when you see more of their clothes on the lounge chair in the corner.

"We figured you could make a nest in our bed," Steve says nervously, and even without looking at him, you know he's shuffling in place, aching to reach out for you. "We want you to be comfortable here."

You can't seem to find any words to describe how happy you are right now, joy filling your body when you think about being surrounded by not only their scent, but their bodies too. It takes no time at all to walk over to the chair and look over the clothes, noticing shirts and sweaters and even a few boxers, causing heat to rise through your body and up to your face.

You don't even need to think about it, grabbing everything in the pile and carrying them over to the bed. The smile on your face is prominent with each article of clothing you place over the plush sheets, forming a semi-circle and fluffing it up until you're satisfied. Looking back to your Alphas, your eyes shine with a need to be praised, to be told that you did a good job, and that your boys are proud of you for your arrangement.

They do so very quickly.

"It's beautiful, honey," Steve says, not taking his eyes off of you.

"It's perfect, Omega," Bucky says next, reaching out his hand and beckoning you forward.

You go easily, walking toward them until you're once again sandwiched between them.

"You're really ready?" Bucky asks, caressing your sides and carefully slipping one of his hands under your shirt.

"Y-Yes." God, you're more than ready. But knowing that you're not as experienced as they are makes you question how tonight is going to go. However, they've always been careful with you, so you're at least comfortable knowing that they won't hurt you.

"We're going to go slow, okay?" Bucky asks, and you let out a small sigh of relief you didn't know you were holding.

"If we do anything you don't like, please tell us," Steve adds, cupping the back of your neck with a large hand. Guiding your head up to look at him, the seriousness in his gaze feels like the wind has been knocked out of you. The fact that they're so adamant about pleasuring you sends shivers down your spine.

"Yes, Alpha."

"We'll start with you telling us what you like," Bucky whispers in your ear, just loud enough for everyone to hear, but not so loud to disrupt the moment.

"Oh." Truthfully, you don't really know what you like. You haven't been with many Alphas, so you're not sure what you enjoy when having sex with one, but you have a general understanding as to what you like when you spend some time with yourself. "Well, I - uh. I don't really know, I haven't... been with that many people, so I don't really know. But, I... I like kissing. And I like touching."

"God, you're sweet," Bucky murmurs, kissing your cheek.

-

"God, you're sweet."

It's true, oh Lord, is it true. When Steve leans down to kiss you, he already knows what he wants to do. And since he and Bucky have talked about this in length, he knows Bucky is on the same page. They both know you're fairly inexperienced, so they figured you may not know exactly what you prefer with other people, but they both know they'll spend all night - hell, all weekend, exploring your body and getting to find out what makes you moan before they even think about their own pleasure.

"How about," Steve cut himself off with a groan poorly disguised as a clear of the throat. "How about we get naked first and get in bed. Is that okay?"

"Yes," You say quickly, leaning up and kissing Steve again. "I - I want that."

"Good," Bucky says, kissing the back of your neck and toying with the hem of your shirt. "We're going to undress you first."

Steve and Bucky talked about it, and came to a mutual decision to direct you through the night's events, telling you what they're going to do so they don't scare you. It also helps them and their primal Alpha urges to take care of you, to settle them into the mindset of giving you as much euphoria as they can without getting lost in their own heads.

Bucky and Steve kiss all over your face and neck, soft presses of lips against smooth skin, occasionally nipping and biting and licking. They pointedly ignore your scent gland, wanting to not only tease you a little, but also not put pressure on you with the idea of their marks. While they love to think about you being theirs forever, they want you to make the decision on if and when it will happen.

They're slow and methodical in taking off your shirt, Bucky working on your pants while Steve's brain short circuits at the sight of your covered breasts rising and falling rapidly with each passing second that their hands caress your body. When his Alpha chuckles, he's knocked out of his trance, kneeling down and steadying your legs to help you step out of your jeans.

Then, you're standing in their room covered only by your bra and underwear. Steve can smell your arousal even more here, the scent of your wetness making his head spin and lean into it. He stops himself before he gets too close, though, not wanting to move too fast. Looking up at you, he runs his hands up and down your thighs, very much enjoying the sight of his mate's hands exploring your torso, stopping to cup your clothed breast.

"Oh!" Your back arches, pressing into Bucky's touch. Steve sees his boyfriend smile against your neck, takes great joy in your little whines, and the way your hips buck up when Steve tugs at the band of your panties.

"Can we take these off, honey?"

"Please." Your begging causes the base of Steve's cock to throb, his knot already pleading to lock inside you.

You stand in place as Bucky works to remove your bra while Steve drags your underwear down your legs, and when he removes them entirely, he's captivated by the sight of how wet and ruined they are. The need to smell them is strong, but he manages to push aside the urge so that he can place his hands on your waist and look up at your face. Your pleasure is evident, but so is your hesitance.

Steve knows it probably shouldn't, but your inexperience turns him on even more than you already do, and he's determined to get you through it to the other side.

"Do you want to lay down, Omega?" Bucky asks, running his hands up and down your arms in a soothing manner.

"O-Okay." Your voice is breathy, already melting into their arms despite the lingering anxiety.

Steve stands, and both men guide you to the bed, a low growl bubbling up in Bucky's throat when you lay down, your legs out straight and spread slightly. They can both hear how fast your heart is racing, they both see the rapid rising and falling of your chest, and they can both smell how absolutely soaked you are.

"She's so beautiful, isn't she Stevie?" Bucky's voice is breathless, like he can't believe his luck at seeing you like this. Steve understands, because he's feeling quite the same. He's so eager to be with you but even more resolved to make this as pleasurable for you as possible, so slow and steady it is.

"She really is, Buck." They're about to crawl onto the bed, but stop when you whine softly and squirm.

"What's wrong, Omega?" Steve's brow furrows, looking over at his Alpha, who appears to be equally concerned.

"Can... Um. Can I... see you too?" Your voice is so small, so timid. The way you fiddle with one of their shirts by your head lets Steve know you probably want to reach out for them, and Steve would never deny you anything you ask for.

"Of course," Steve says, nodding. When he takes off his shirt, he sees your eyes widen, and smiles to himself when you shut your legs together tightly. The hunger in your eyes is evident, but there's also nervousness. "How about we still keep our boxers on for now, and we can finish getting undressed later?"

"O-Okay." Steve smiles at your response, and then looks over to his mate who - oh. Fear is etched across his face, and it suddenly clicks in Steve's brain.

Bucky's arm. While the scars have never deterred Steve from loving and worshiping Bucky the way he deserves, he knows his Alpha is still self conscious about it around other people. He's grown more confident with his body as time passes, but Steve knows Bucky is terrified of you seeing the marred skin on his shoulder.

"Alpha?" Your soft voice says, and you slowly sit up and look at Bucky expectantly.

-

"Alpha?"

Bucky kind of wants to vomit. He's been so excited for tonight, so eager to finally show you how much love they can give you, that he completely forgot that he would have to be naked too. He knows Steve doesn't mind his arm or scars, has told and shown him countless times that he's loved and desired, but it's different with you.

After all Bucky has been through, he never thought he'd get so lucky as to reunite with Steve, to be with him and love him openly in a way he never allowed himself to dream of back in the forties when being gay was a death sentence and two Alpha's mating was so unheard of it that it was laughable. And now that he can, he feels like he can truly be himself, like he can be, dare he say it, happy.

And then you came along. You, with your sweet voice that invades his dreams and makes him wake up aching to call you. You, with your tender touch that feels like a shot of dopamine straight into his veins any time your fingers so much as brush his arm. You, with your kind heart that has shown him so much love and patience, one would think you were a saint.

You've allowed him to explore parts of himself that he never knew existed; you've shown him how gentle he can be, that he's more than what he's made himself out to be. So, knowing all of this about you, Bucky doesn't think it should be so scary to reveal his torso to you. He knows that even if you did think the scars were ugly, you wouldn't visibly react.

But that's the thing. What if you do think his scars are ugly? Tony gave him some fancy medical cream he can't remember the name of to help make them not so red and angry all the time, but it's still not pretty. And the last thing Bucky wants is for you to look at him and realize you're too good for an Alpha like him.

No. He thinks harshly, chewing on his bottom lip, heat rising to his face as he tries to calm his racing heart. She loves me. I am enough. I can do this.

"Bucky?" Your sweet voice travels up to his ears, forcing his gaze to meet yours. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, of - of course - yeah." He knows he's okay, he knows he's safe with you and Steve, but when he finally pulls his shirt over his head and drops it to the floor, he can't meet your eyes, too afraid of what he'll find if he does.

He hears the bed squeak when he doesn't move, and he's so focused on trying to breathe properly that he nearly jumps when he feels Steve's hand land on his flesh shoulder.

"Bucky," You call again, soft as ever, and he can see out of the corner of his eyes that you're now kneeling at the end of the bed, reaching out to touch his chest. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I can put my shirt on if you want," Is what he blurts out, rushed, trying to assure you that he'll do whatever he needs to make you comfortable.

"Why would I want that? I love looking at you." There's a pain in Bucky's heart because you sound genuinely hurt and confused, wondering why he would ever think such a thing. "You're beautiful, Alpha."

Bucky lets out a shaky breath, then, with no small amount of apprehension, turns to face you.

"It's just... I know you probably don't want to see my... my scars, and I know they're ugly, so it -" Bucky's cut off by your lips pressing against his, and he feels his body relax even more.

"Do you want to know what I think of your scars?" You ask when you pull back, and Bucky doesn't really know if he wants to or not. But there's no malice in your tone, no disgust in your eyes, only love. So, despite his better judgment, he nods slowly.

"I think they're a symbol of resolve. You've been through so much, far too much. And they might remind you of all that you were forced to do, but not for me. They're proof to me that you withheld their torment and came out on the other side. They're proof of how strong and capable you are. I don't care if they aren't aesthetically pleasing, they're apart of you, whether you like it or not. And I love you. All of you. And that includes your arm."

Bucky is so focused on you that he doesn't realize he's crying; the tears on his cheeks don't register in his mind because he's too captivated by the sight of your fingers delicately running along the biggest mark on his shoulder. Then, you're leaning forward, placing a few short and sweet kisses along the seam where metal meets flesh, and Bucky won't even deny that the whimper he lets out is downright pitiful. But he can't help it; he doesn't want to ever go without you and your compassion.

"I love you too," Bucky whispers, leaning into your touch. "You... You're sure you don't mind?"

"Baby," You murmur, cupping his cheek in one palm and holding onto his shoulder with the other. "If it would make you feel more comfortable to wear a shirt, then I won't force you not to wear one, but I want to see you, all of you. I don't care if you don't think you're perfect because you're perfect to me. Me and Stevie. You're perfect for us."

If Bucky believed in a God, he'd be thanking them right now, would be on his knees wondering what he ever did to deserve you, but is so grateful that he must have done something right because here you are, in all your glory. Naked and baring your heart and soul to them.

Bucky wants to ravage you. He wants to worship you.

He's going to.

With a resolute nod, he covers your hand - the one on his cheek - and moves it so he can kiss your palm, once, twice, then a final time before he looks over at Steve. His mate has tears in his own eyes, and he's honestly surprised Steve isn't bawling right now, always so emotional.

"Lay back, Omega." Bucky's voice is hoarse, thick with emotion and desire.

And, because you're so sweet, you lay back easily, wiggling until you're laying comfortably with your legs out and spread a little, and your arms resting on the pillow above you. The picture you paint is better than anything in the MoMA. He could write soliloquies about how beautiful you are when you look at him with half-lidded eyes and slightly kiss-swollen lips. You're completely relaxed, and Bucky takes a few seconds to breathe in your scent and cement in his brain that you want him.

"Okay," Bucky whispers, mostly to himself, and gathers the courage to unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper. Looking to you, he waits for your little nod before he actually tugs the garment down, and then turns his head to see Steve doing the same. They're both slow, not wanting to ruin the moment. They've got nowhere to be except here with you.

Once both Alphas' pants are discarded, Steve steps towards Bucky and gives him an encouraging kiss, letting him know that they're in this together. It gives Bucky the reassurance that Steve is on the same page as him, is with him 'til the end of the line.

When they break away, they share a knowing glance. This is a big step for not just you, but for them. They've been together their whole lives; they know each other intimately in ways no one else ever will, and so to allow someone else into their dynamic was a big adjustment.

It's one they're happy to make for you.

"Can we come into your nest, Omega?"

-

"Can we come into your nest, Omega?"

You're not sure why, but there's a pang in your chest at the question. This is their bed you're laying in, these are their clothes you're surrounded by, but to them, it's your nest. They've already given you so much without expecting or asking for anything in return, and now they're giving you this; a safe space outside of your apartment where no one can hurt you, where even they still ask for permission to enter.

"Yes." It's the fastest and easiest response you've ever given, and you can't stop the smile from etching across your face as they crawl up the bed so that they can both lay on either side of you, propping themselves up on an elbow so they can stare down at you.

Now you're really trapped between them, both Alphas' eyes roaming over your body as though they can't believe you're real. Despite the close quarters, your 'fight or flight' senses don't kick in; you know in your soul that you're protected. And that thought alone makes your inner Omega force a submissive whine slip out of your mouth.

"Can I touch you, honey?" Steve asks, letting his hand hover over your stomach as though he's aching to feel you but won't do so without your permission.

"Please, Alpha." You're not sure which of your Alphas produces the deep growl that echoes through the room; perhaps it's both of them; all you know is that as soon as Steve's hand makes contact with your skin, your body is lit aflame. He runs his fingers over to your side, gliding his palm up until he's just barely touching your breast.

Suddenly, Bucky has let his hand rest on your neck - not nearly enough to choke you, just to guide your attention to his.

"Can I kiss you?"

You're not at all embarrassed at the speed at which you surge forward to kiss Bucky; just a few touches and sweet words and you're already putty for them. This time, you can feel the groan vibrating through the Blonde Alpha's chest, and your hand instinctively searches for him, finding purchase by threading your fingers through his hair. You can feel his eyes never wavering from your face, and it makes you burn hotter, makes you squirm because you're not sure what to do about the almost unbearable ache between your legs.

The kiss starts out soft, merely a gentle glide of lips caressing each other. It isn't until one of Steve's massive hands fully encompasses one of your breasts that Bucky's tongue has the opportunity to slip into your mouth - dropped open due to a gasp.

Lips press against your neck, soft sighs mixed in with little nips as Steve breathes in your scent. You're pretty sure it's involuntary, but you feel the hard bulge in Steve's boxers grind against your leg a few times before he seems to come to his senses and stop his movements.

"Sorry, 'mega," Steve breathes out against your skin, tugging at your nipple at the same time Bucky moves his hand down to your stomach. They work in tandem to get you worked up, and you're sure both of them can smell how wet you are.

It's when Bucky's hand reaches the top of one of your thighs that you part your legs as wide as you can with both Alphas surrounding you.

"Can I touch your pussy?" Bucky asks, pulling back from your lips just enough to be heard. He's breathing hard, almost as though he is the one that's about to combust from pleasure.

"Y-Yes, Alpha." It's been so long since you've had someone else touch you like this, and despite being nervous, you want to push through it. You want to join your bodies with them, give them anything they desire.

And even though you're aching and desperate, Bucky doesn't move fast towards where you want him most. He takes his time trailing his fingers to the inside of your thigh, then grips it in his large palm and drapes your leg over his to open you up even further. The cold air hitting your exposed pussy sends shivers down your spine, and Steve covers your mouth with his own to swallow your high-pitched whine.

"Don't worry, honey," Bucky coos in your ear, nipping your lobe. "We'll take care of you."

Pulling away from Steve and looking over at your other Alpha, you smirk a little. "You better," you tease, reaching up and carding your fingers through his hair, relishing in the quiet groan he lets out. "Because Tori wanted me to tell you that she'll hurt you if you don't."

Both Alphas laugh, nodding along.

"Well, we'll reassure her later that we did everything we could to cherish you the way you deserve," Steve says, kissing your cheek. "Right now, though, we have a job to do."

"And that's to prove to you that we can give you everything you need and want," Bucky finishes for him, sliding his hand to cover your dripping core and smiling deviously when you moan and buck your hips up into it.

"I know you will," You say. And you mean it; you mean it with everything you have. You know in your heart and soul that only they can provide for you. Looking between your best guys, you give them the softest smile. "I know."

Both men curse under their breaths, and Bucky looks down at you with that look in his eyes he only gives you and Steve.

"Can I play with your clit?" His voice is gruff, and it's clear he's holding himself back from absolutely ravishing you. It sends a surge of love straight to your heart and causes more slick to pour out of your quivering hole.

"Please."

Bucky nods, and Steve leans down to encompass your nipple, the one that he's not tugging at while your other Alpha taps your clit a few times. He circles it a few times, pressing down and smirking when you once again push your hips up.

"You're so beautiful like this, do you know that?"

It's an automatic reaction to shake your head in denial of his comment. You want to believe that it's true so badly, but sometimes you still have trouble accepting their compliments. It just doesn't seem real that these two Gods see you as beautiful as they say you are, but part of you likes to think that just makes their opinions that much more real. If these gorgeous Alphas think your appearance captivates them just as much as your heart, then you're hoping you're going to believe them one day.

"You are," Steve growls against your skin, and the sound reverberates through your chest. The sternness in his tone makes you whine, but also causes tears to prick your eyes.

"Say it," Bucky demands, rolling your clit between his fingers. "Tell us what Stevie and I already know." When you don't say anything, he continues. "Tell us you're beautiful; tell us that we're lucky to have you, and I'll slip my finger in that cute little hole."

You want his finger so bad, you want it to fill you completely and get you ready for them, but your emotions get caught in your throat. It's so difficult to say what they want you to say, but when Steve lets his teeth graze your breast and Bucky circles your hole teasingly, you know you'll say or do anything they ask of you as long as they continue to play with your body like this.

"I..." Bucky raises his eyebrow, then softens his expression, and leans down to kiss your forehead. With a deep breath, you look up at him. "I'm beautiful."

"And?" Steve says, releasing your breast and causing you to tremble when the cold air hits your exposed and wet nipple.

"You - You're... You're lucky to - to have me."

"Damn right we are," Both of your men say at the same time, and you'd laugh at their synchronicity if it weren't for Bucky's finger pressing against your opening.

You're wet enough that it doesn't feel that uncomfortable when the very tip of his finger dips in, but your body involuntarily tenses when he tries pushing in deeper.

"It's okay, honey," Bucky coos, and Steve cups your cheek to guide your attention to him.

"Just relax, Omega," He says, kissing your lips briefly. "It's okay, we won't do anything you don't want."

"But..." You trail off, heat creeping up to your face. "I - I really do want it. Just... Just go slow, okay?"

"Of course," Bucky says, Steve nodding in agreement, and the hunger in his eyes doesn't put you off. It actually emboldens you and further cements in your brain that they crave you the way they claim to. "We'll go as slow as you want, sweet girl. We don't have anywhere to be except right here with you."

"We won't even think about our own pleasure until you're completely satisfied," Steve adds, and that alone makes you want to cry.

How did you get so lucky?

"We told you, we are the lucky ones." Bucky's comment makes the heat in your cheeks flare up because you realize you said that out loud.

"So am I, though - oh!" You get cut off when Bucky manages to push his finger in even more until it's halfway inside. "I - I love you, and you love me, and it just - oh God."

Steve doesn't let you finish your sentence because he quickly pecks your lips, and you let his tongue invade your mouth when it asks for entrance by running along your bottom lip.

"We're supposed to praising you, Omega," You hear Bucky say, wiggling the finger inside you. You can't see him, but you're sure he's staring down at your entrance, no doubt aching to feel you fluttering around his cock.

The thought makes you clench down onto his finger, but then immediately relax your body to allow him to push all the way in. It stings, and you kind of wish you prepped yourself a little before coming over, but another part of you loves that they're the ones doing it, that they're more than willing to do the work.

Bucky wiggles his finger again, letting you get used to the feeling. Other than that, he doesn't move his hand, not until you break your kiss with Steve and nod at him.

"You - You can move."

He's slow as he pulls his hand back, though he doesn't allow himself to fully pull out. He gives you time to take a few deep breaths, then pushes back in, repeating the motion leisurely for a while until you're moaning and nodding again.

"Can you... give me another?" His fingers are big, one of them being thicker than two of your own, so you're sure it's going to be a little painful, but you're ready for it. Ready for them.

"Of course, honey." This time, he does pull out of your hole, tracing two of them around your entrance and smiling when you whine pathetically. "Just breathe, okay?"

"Yes, Alpha."

-

"Yes, Alpha."

Bucky wants to combust, is going to implode with how much love he has for you. When you call him 'Alpha', it does things to him. It sends the primal part of his brain into overdrive, making him want to wrap you in his arms and give you the world.

Your body melts into the bed, and he manages to push two thick fingers into your core, stopping as soon as you hiss softly.

"It's okay, honey," Steve whispers into your ear, running his own hand down until he can press down against your clit. "His fingers are big, aren't they?"

"Uh huh," You mumble, wiggling your hips and taking steadying breaths. "So big."

Now, Steve knows from personal experience how big Bucky is, his cock and fingers included. And he knows that Steve can take it - oh boy can he take it, but Bucky knows he needs to be careful with you, no matter how strong his urge to simply take you is.

Steve continues to rub and play with your clit, allowing you to relax your core until Bucky can slip his fingers in further. It takes a little longer to fit both of them fully inside you, having to spread his fingers and go slow as he opens you up so that he's able to press in all the way. The fluttering of your hole makes his cock throb, eager to feel it around his cock, but wants to take his time so that you can actually enjoy it.

"Alright, Omega," Bucky breathes out, having to close his eyes and will himself to pull his fingers out. "Can you take another?"

"Yes!" Your enthusiastic consent forces a rumble from his chest, making that Alpha growl that he knows you like.

"Okay, don't fret, honey," Bucky coos, leaning down and giving you a nearly filthy kiss before pulling back. "Now, this may hurt. Just remember to breathe and relax."

He waits for you to nod before he presses the tips of three fingers against your hole. He goes even slower when opening you up this time, and he doesn't mind that it takes longer to be able to finger you properly. It seems like it takes a lifetime for him to be able to move faster, but he doesn't mind, not in the slightest. He's willing to age twenty years until you're truly ready. The glazed over look in your eyes makes him want to cry with how absolutely sweet you are, your scent of arousal filling his nostrils as he inhales deeply.

"Can I ask you something?" Bucky asks, and he wasn't planning on it, but when he pulls his hand away and looks at his glistening fingers, he knows he needs to taste you.

"What is it?"

"Have you ever had your pretty pussy eaten out?"

“Oh.” Your eyes go wide and your hips involuntarily wiggle. “Um, no - no one’s ever… done that.”

“Can I be your first?” Bucky is practically salivating at the thought of burying his face between your legs, and he can feel his knot throb as he imagines the moans you’ll make.

“Oh, oh - um. Yes, you can... do that.” You sound caught off guard, and for a moment Bucky thinks you might be complying simply because he asked, but then you thrust your hips upwards and whine  “Please.”

Bucky can’t help the cheshire-like grin that envelops itself across his face, and he quickly nods, then looks at Steve.

“How about you get behind her and sit her on your lap; it’ll be easier that way.”

His mate nods eagerly, and they both look to you for your consent, which you give them with a nod of your own. They both lean back; Bucky helping you sit up so that Steve can shuffle to sit behind you. Bucky lets you scoot back so you can settle against Steve’s chest, and Bucky just can’t stop himself from staring at you both for a few moments. You’re just so beautiful, and seeing Steve’s hands holding your waist makes him desperate to watch you two make love.

But first, he has a job to do.

Bucky maneuvers his body so he can lay on his stomach between your legs, and he takes one of your calves in his hands. Slowly, he trails kisses from your ankle up to the inside of your thigh, then lifts it so he can lay it over Steve’s leg. He does the same with your other leg, though this time he gives you a few nibbles, which he licks after to soothe the mild sting.

Once both of your legs are spread, your glistening pussy is on full display, and Bucky doesn’t even want to stop the groan he lets out, he needs to let you know that he’s enjoying this almost as much as you are.

Leaning forward, he inhales your scent where it’s strongest, and he moans even louder, unable not to spread your lower lips to fully view your most intimate parts. Looking up at you, he gives you a gentle smile, then delicately kisses your clit.

“If you want me to stop, just let me know.” At your nod, and a smile of your own, he dives in further, flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit several times and relishing in your shocked gasp.

Flattening his tongue, he licks a long stripe from your leaking hole back up to your clit, then wraps his lips around it and suckles, giving you time to adjust to the feeling. But soon enough, his hunger overtakes him, and he dips his tongue into your loosened hole, sticking it in as far as he can so he can drink down your essence. He keeps his eyes on your euphoric expressions, watching carefully to find out which of his actions makes you tremble the most. And you seem to be more than okay with what he’s doing, especially when he licks back up to your clit and teases your entrance with the tips of two fingers.

“Oh! Alpha, yes!”

Your begging sends shivers down Bucky’s spine, and he groans into your pussy, taking mercy on you and fitting them inside you. He continues to lick and suck your clit while simultaneously picking up the speed at which he fingers you, though he’s careful not to overwhelm you. He watches as Steve covers one of your hands with his own and threads your fingers together, then guides your other hand to grip Bucky’s hair.

“Does she taste as good as we thought?” Steve asks, his voice gruff.

“So much better,” Bucky says, leaning back just enough to be heard. His admission must have done something to you because you thrust your hips against his face and whine, high-pitched and loud.

Bucky might actually die; he feels as though he is dead, has passed over into the afterlife, and is now on his way to heaven. The way you grind your hips against his face makes his cock throb, makes him want to hump against the bed to relieve the ache - he won't, though, because he knows he'll cum too soon if he does.

“Buck,” Steve says some time later, out of breath as though he was the one who couldn’t breathe because he was devouring you.

“What, punk?” Bucky asks, pulling away and practically glaring at him, annoyed that he was stopped when you were on your way to release.

“Are you gonna let me have a taste too?”

“So needy,” He chuckles, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a smirk at the same time he rolls his eyes.

Bucky surges up, ignoring your whine as he leans over your body so he can immediately lick into Steve’s mouth. Your slick covers Bucky’s chin, and once your taste is almost gone from his mouth, Steve starts cleaning his Alpha’s face with his tongue, groaning deeply.

“You were right, jerk,” Steve says when he’s done, then turns to find you’ve been watching them. He pecks your lips, then smirks at you. “You’re delicious.”

“Alphas, please!”

“Please what, honey?” Bucky teases, taking your hand out of his hair and kissing your palm. “What do you want?”

“I…” You pause, chewing on your lip in a nervous gesture. “I want you… inside me.”

Both Alphas curse, and the men share a look before turning back to you.

“Both of us won’t fuck you tonight,” Bucky starts, cutting off your disappointed whine with a brief kiss. “We don’t want to overwhelm you. So, we’ll let you choose.”

“Oh.” You look conflicted, eyes flicking between both men as though it’s an impossible choice to make. And after a while, Steve kisses your temple, rubbing your sides.

“How about Bucky takes you first? And then we can work up to both of us later.” Steve’s offer seems to please you, and you turn to look at him over his shoulder.

“Are you sure, Stevie?”

“I’m sure,” Steve assures, bringing up your joined hands and kissing your knuckles. “As a matter of fact, I want to watch you two. I can take care of myself, okay?”

“O-Okay.”

“Okay, honey. We’re going to take off our boxers now,” Bucky says, and both of them carefully extract themselves from your body so they can stand next to the bed. Both of them take a deep breath, keeping their eyes on you while they peel off their underwear and let them fall to the floor.

“That’s not going to fit.” Your blunt statement makes them both laugh a little, and Bucky shakes his head.

“We’ll make it fit, Omega. But…” Bucky trails off, glancing at Steve and seeing his reassuring smile. “How about you just sit on it for a little bit? It will get you used to the feeling.”

You squirm in place, your hands twisting in the bed sheets you're laying on as you contemplate the offer. Finally, you nod, sitting up and shuffling around so Bucky can sit on the bed with his back leaning against the head board. They both help you straddle Bucky's lap, kneeling above him as he holds your hips. He hisses when Steve grabs the base of his sensitive cock, relishing in the grip as his mate positions the tip at your entrance.

"Are you ready, honey?" Bucky asks, looking up at you. He can hear how fast your heart is beating, can practically feel you vibrating in place with anxiety. He's not sure if it's good or bad, and you have a hesitant look on your face, but you nod anyway, leaning down to quickly kiss him.

"Yeah, just..." You trail off, chewing on your lower lip briefly. "Go slow?"

"Of course, honey," Bucky assures, squeezing your sides affectionately.

"We've got all night," Steve adds, pressing a kiss to your temple. "If you want to stop or take a break, just let us know. There's no need to rush, okay? We'll take this at your pace."

"Okay," You say, taking a deep breath. "I trust you both."

You have no idea what that simple sentence does to Bucky. You trust him? Him? Bucky Barnes? The Winter Soldier? He understands Steve; he's Captain Fucking America; of course, he can be trusted to protect you. But sometimes it's still wild to Bucky that you trust him to do that as well.

It's something he'll never take for granted.

-

"I trust you both."

You mean it when you say it. You trust your Alphas with your life, taking solace in the fact that they'll care for and covet you, so you're not worried about that. It's just... You've never felt like this towards anyone; you don't think you'll ever feel so much love and adoration for another man, not that you want to. You fully intend on bonding with them and marrying them, creating a future together filled with happiness and joy. In fact, you're not actually sure what you'd do if you didn't spend the rest of your life with them.

You refuse to find out.

They're careful when helping you sit, Steve keeping his hold on Bucky's knot while snaking his other hand down your front to your pussy. Spreading your lower lips, you shiver at the touch, anticipation building in your core and heart as they remind you to take deep breaths.

It's been a long, long time since you've had sex, so the initial sting isn't surprising. What is surprising, however, is how quickly the pain dulls, fading away to pleasure. Steve's finger lightly toying with your clit also helps, forcing more slick to drip from your hole and practically soak Bucky's cock. Despite feeling like he's already deep in your stomach, you look down and find that he's only about halfway inside you, and you continue taking deep breaths.

It takes a few minutes for you to feel ready enough to sit down all the way; loud moans and whines fill the room. It's overwhelming in the best possible way - Bucky rubbing your waist to soothe you while Steve continues flicking your clit.

"Fuck." Even you are shocked at your exclamation, you rarely curse; it's just not in your nature. But it's the only thing that comes to mind, and your internal filter is practically nonexistent at this point. Your head is filled with thoughts of how much you love your Alphas, how much you crave them, and how you know you're immediately addicted to his cock. You won't take Steve tonight, but you're sure you'll become obsessed with his too.

It's just too good. Feeling Bucky's cock pulsing in your pussy sends shivers down your spine, electricity thrumming throughout your body and causing fuzziness in your mind.

"Are you okay?" Steve asks, continuing to rub your nub and moving his hand from Bucky's cock to your breast, softly tugging and tweaking your nipple.

"Better," You say breathlessly, turning your head to look at him. "So much better than okay."

"Good. That's good, Omega," Bucky grits out, and you will applaud him later for his strength and willpower to not immediately fuck you. You know you're tight, squeezing his member as though you never want to let him leave your body - which, to be fair, you don't. You'd live happily for the rest of your life like this, surrounding and filled with your best guys.

"Are you okay, Buck?" Steve teases, and you smile a little at the smirk he gives the other man. "How does she feel? Tell me." The huskiness in Steve's voice gives away his eagerness, and it leaves you feeling disappointed that you won't take him tonight while also anticipating for when you finally do.

"Like fucking heaven." Bucky tightly shuts his eyes, breathing steadily through the intense waves of pleasure. "Our Omega is so tight, so fucking wet. Don't ever want to leave her pretty pussy."

The way they talk about you like you're not even here gets you even more soaked, unable to stop the pathetic whimper that escapes your lips. Nor are you able to stop yourself from wiggling in place, heat flooding your veins as Bucky's cock shifts inside you.

"He's so greedy, isn't he, honey?" Steve asks you playfully, chuckling to himself when you nod, clearly loving your dazed state. "Not that I blame him. We've both dreamt about you, how perfect you'd be for us. We'd wake up hard as hell, desperate to call you so we can get off to your voice. We didn't know how you would feel about that, though, so we'd take care of ourselves. But you're what we think about when we have sex; we moan your name, imagining you here with us so we can love on you too, give you everything you need."

Steve's endless praise lights you on fire, your hind brain going feral over how soft his tone yet how filthy the words he's spewing is.

"I -" Pausing, you squirm again, moaning at the jolt of pleasure. "I think about you too. When... When I t-touch myself." The admission doesn't scare you like you thought it would; you're too in love with them to be embarrassed about being so vulnerable.

But your admission makes Bucky's hips stutter upwards, causing you to bounce slightly. Everyone moans, and you feel Steve's painfully hard erection rut against your backside, and you take great pride in knowing that they're clearly pleased.

"God, you're just perfect, aren't you?" Bucky sounds out of breath, like he's just ran a marathon and hasn't recovered yet. He raises his eyebrows when you start to shake your head, taking you by surprise when he lightly pinches your side - not nearly enough to hurt, just acting as a warning.

"Say it, Omega," Steve urges, rubbing your clit a little faster. "Tell us that you're perfect, and then we'll let you ride Buck like I know you're desperate to."

"I'm... perfect." You don't really believe it, but you know you'll say just about anything in order to get what you want. And, judging by the looks on both of their faces, they don't believe that you mean it either.

"One day you'll see yourself how we do; the sweet, perfect Omega that you are. And we'll be right here when you do."

Steve's words make you want to cry; they bring tears to your eyes and a surge of love through your heart. How did you get so lucky?

You don't get much time to dwell on that because Steve squeezes your breast tighter at the same time that Bucky grips your hips and guides them to grind down on his lap. More moans emanate through the air, focusing on how good it feels to be loved by these perfect Alphas, how good you feel being filled to the brim with cock.

Before long, Bucky takes your hands and places them on his shoulders, his breath hitching when you delicately rub your thumb along the scars. You know he can't feel much of it, but you hope he understands the gesture when you lean down to kiss the marks. It doesn't take but a few minutes of gyrating until you voluntarily raise up a few inches, then sink down in one fluid motion, squeezing your eyes shut because you can feel that you're about to cum but you're pleading with your body not to let you, not yet. You don't want this to end just yet.

You lift up again, then sit down with a little more force, relishing in your Alphas' groans. You feel powerful like this, taking what you want with more and more determination until you position your lower half in such a way that the tip of Bucky's cock presses into that special spot deep inside your core.

"Alpha!"

"Is that it, Omega?" Bucky asks through a clenched jaw, his pupils blown wide as he stares down at where your bodies meet, entranced by the sight of his soaked cock. "Did I hit your spot? You feelin' good?"

"So - oh!" You can't stop riding him even when the burn in your hips increases, and you know you'll be sore tomorrow, but you couldn't care less right now. All you care about is getting off and making your guys feel as good as you do. "I'm gonna cum!"

"Do it, 'Mega," Steve says, rubbing your clit furiously, smirking into your neck when he ducks his head and licks and sucks the skin around your scent gland. "Cum for us, show us how beautiful you are when you fall apart. Show us how sweet you are for us."

You can tell Bucky is close too based on the rapidity of his chest rising and falling, the flush covering his body, the tensing of his abs. But you can also tell that he's holding back until you break first, and your inner Omega preens at the display of restraint, knowing that he's strong enough to please you first before he allows himself his own release.

"Cum."

You're not sure who ordered it, but you don't really care. Your body tensing and your pussy clamping down on Bucky's knot as it locks inside you, waves of ecstasy washing over you until tears start streaming down your face. It seems like forever but also no time at all before you slump forward into Bucky's chest, aftershocks of your orgasm causing you to quake when you feel his own cum flood your hole, getting locked in by his fully blown knot.

You're still whimpering and crying into Bucky's chest as you come down from your high; too many positive emotions swirling in your body and mind that it can't help but pour out of you.

"Honey?" Someone asks, clearly concerned, and you shake your head.

"I - I'm okay," You assure them, focusing on the hands caressing your body. "I just... I just love you both so, so much."

"We love you too, Omega." You recognize the voice as Bucky's, your cries dwindling into sniffles until you try to sit up, but fall forward almost immediately due to how weak you feel.

"It's okay, just stay like that, honey," Steve says gently, moving from behind you to kneel at your side and rub your back. "Rest."

"But..." Breathing deeply, you feel a sense of guilt when you look down and see that Steve is still hard. You want him to get off too, eager to see him lose himself, wanting so badly to touch him and give him his own orgasm. "You didn't..."

"Oh, honey," Steve coos, smiling at you sweetly when you trail off and don't continue. "You're worried because I didn't cum?"

Shyly nodding your head, you force yourself to maintain eye contact, slowly reaching out for him.

"Can - Can I... I wanna -" You're cut off by both Alpha's groaning, squeaking a little when you feel Bucky's cock twitch.

"You wanna touch our Alpha?" Bucky asks, kissing your forehead. "You can if you want. Touch him all you want."

"It's okay," Steve coos, shuffling forward until your hand is mere inches from his twitching cock. "Go ahead, honey. Touch me. Make me cum."

Even though it's phrased as an order, you know he's not demanding it; he'd never pressure you to do anything you don't feel fully comfortable with. And that's why you finally take his cock in your hand, positive that you want to make him feel good.

It takes no time at all before the base of Steve's cock grows, only allowing you to pump it a few times before the telltale signs of his orgasm crescendo into a full body shudder. He's clearly so worked up that he can barely last a minute with your hand on him, and it makes you feel like the luckiest Omega alive.

Bucky takes you by surprise when he wraps one arm around your back, steadying you against his torso while gripping one of Steve's ass cheeks in his wide palm, leaning forward and taking the tip of his dick in his mouth as soon as the first spurt of cum leaks out.

You're entranced by the sight of your Alpha swallowing your other Alpha's cum, and you're almost a little jealous that you're not tasting it, but the sight alone is enough to make you want to watch Bucky really suck Steve off. Images flash through your mind of them teaching you how to take them in your mouth, and you shiver at the thought but decide to keep it to yourself for the meantime.

Once everything is said and done and everyone is satisfied, Steve lays back against the headboard next to Bucky, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. Yawning, you all chuckle a little, soothing hands rubbing your back and sides as your eyes start fluttering with the need for sleep overtaking your mind.

"Go to sleep, honey," Bucky whispers against the top of your head, tilting your head up so he can kiss your lips. "We'll talk in the morning."

"Okay," You whisper back, accepting Steve's kiss then resting your head against Bucky's chest once more. "I love you both," You murmur, your eyes shutting completely, letting the happiness settle into your bones and succumbing to the exhaustion.

"We love you too, Omega."

You fall asleep with a smile on your face, dreams filled with a little house and a home art studio, excited for the future.

-

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[lovebugism]

can i request angst☹️☹️shy!reader barely ever talking and being soo hyperaware of everything and steve slowly breaks her out of her shell? then she overhears him saying she talks too much and she just feels bad and reverts into herself

Angst w happy endingn if possible please ily!!🫶🏼

ty for requesting!! — steve tells you he likes when you talk a lot (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)

Your smile is wide and unknowing. Steve thinks there’s something extra special about it because you don’t even realize it’s there. “—And since Eddie was working the register, he let me take one of the new tapes for free. You know, to try it or whatever, and he was all like, ‘flattery works with me,’ and I was like, Steve would keel over if he was here right now.”

A giggle spills from your mouth when your rambling ceases, lips curling and eyes crinkling.

Steve blinks at you with his own absentminded beam, too busy thinking about how pretty you are to react properly to your story. 

Your smile sobers slightly. “What?”

“Nothing,” he assures with the shake of his neatly styled head, rogue strands of chestnut hair draping his forehead. He shrugs and leans his elbows over the Family Video counter you stand across. “You’re just… You’re talking a lot. ’S nice.”

Your face heats. Your chest burns with a similar fire. Your eyes widen ‘cause you didn’t realize that you hadn’t shut up until now. “Oh… Sorry—”

“No, it’s good!” he tells you, laughing. “It’s a compliment.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah! I mean, I used to have to bribe you to get you to talk about your day. Remember that?”

Benny’s Burgers was your very best friend at the start of your relationship. Steve would always buy your dinner — not in exchange for you to talk exactly, but in the hopes that the additional time spent with you would help you open up. It did. Most of the time, anyway.

Your nose scrunches. “I thought you took me out because you liked me?”

“I took you out ‘cause I liked you and because the sugar rush from the milkshakes made you talk more.”

You nod once. “Right.”

The conversation ebbs. The store gets eerily silent without your voices to fill it. Steve, undeterred by the lapse in dialogue, flashes you a lopsided smile. “Wanna show me the tapes you bought?”

“Yeah,” you murmur and push off the counter. 

Steve watches you over his shoulder while you saunter down the hallway where your bag is kept. The breakroom door squeals open and shut again. A voice sounds suddenly from beside him. “Nice job, dingus,” Robin chides, gritty and montoned.

His head snaps to the other side, brows twisted with confusion. “What?”

“You hurt her feelings,” she answers like it’s obvious, dropping a stack of VHS tapes on the counter with a heavy thud.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You said she was talking a lot.”

“I said that I liked it!”

Robin rolls her ocean-blue eyes, huffing ‘cause he’s too oblivious to get the point. “Yeah, but if I said, Wow, you have a ton of gel in your hair— but it’s styled really nice today, it’d give you a whole complex. Wouldn’t it?”

The make-believe compliment is dreadfully backhanded. Steve’s face floods with a gentle horror, the realization of a fallacy he hadn’t realized he’d made. “Shit…”

“Exactly,” Robin deadpans. “Now go take care of your girlfriend, dingus.”

He finds you in the breakroom, idling in place. You’ve got the cassettes in your hands, and you fidget with them between anxious fingers — like you were planning to come out sometime, but not quite yet. 

You tense when the door creaks open, relaxing again when Steve enters.

“Whatcha doing?” he wonders with a crooked, pink smile.

“Getting the tapes,” you answer in a mousy voice, waving the pieces of plastic in your hand.

The door clicks shut behind him. He inches towards you, fond and terribly soft with it. “I missed you,” he confesses in a faint murmur. His wide palms settle on your sides. You warm instantly under his touch.

“I was gone for two seconds,” you respond with a quiet laugh.

“Yeah. And I felt like I was dying.”

You meet his pout with a small smile, blinking up at him with sparkling doe eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I just love being around you, alright? Sue me,” he argues, squeezing softly at your hips. With a quieter smile, he confesses, “And when I said you were talking a lot— I didn’t mean anything by it, you know?”

You’d disappeared back here because you thought it was something silly to be so upset over. He’d told you it was a compliment, but it didn’t really feel like one. Your brain refused to be anything other than hurt by his well-intentioned remarks. The ache in your chest became unignorable, and you shrunk inside yourself accordingly.

“I know,” you murmur.

“I love hearing you talk,” he tells you, shy smirk widening to a lopsided beam. “It’s my favorite thing in the whole world, actually.”

Your lips purse to the side. Your anxious hands fidget with the plastic cassettes in your palms, aching to hold him. It takes you a moment or more to find the courage to speak. “I’m just… I’m normally super aware of… when I’m talking too much, you know? I was just… Excited, I guess.”

“You were. And it was really fuckin’ cute.” A laugh sputters from his lips. He wears all the love he has for you in the deep honey of his eyes, rich and swimming with warmth. “I love seeing you happy.”

“Well, you make me happy…” you whisper, gaze averted. “So, it fits…”

“Yeah, it does,” he murmurs in response, ducking down to kiss you. It’s chaste and terribly fleeting — lips locking together one moment and then smacking in protest when they separate the next. 

It takes your eyes a second too long to flutter open again after he’s pulled back from you. You find Steve already grinning as he nods to the tapes in your hands. “Wanna pop those into the radio? So we can listen to ‘em while I work?”

Your brows pinch with a distant worry. “Won’t Keith get mad?” 

“Probably,” Steve answers with an uncaring shrug. “You don’t have to worry about him, alright? I’ll take care of you.”

You melt.

[nebulaoz]

AUGHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH

this was so fun to work on, i love this whole fic with all of my heart i just had to.

i hope your break was good and im glad you back ❤️❤️❤️

one of my favorite lines from PtLOaC is: "You don't just kiss up a mans arm because youre his 'friend'." -Mike Wheeler (it was smth along those lines i think)

Put the Lights Out and Cry

literally one of my most favorite fics ever, i wanted to show my appreciation.

i think this took about 7-8 hours? hope ypu like it :) @blipblot

heres the ao3 link to it, please give it a read its so amazing.